Of Angels To Be
by StarUchiha
Summary: Kane's newest project threatens to tear Julie's life apart by the seams. Her choices are clear - give up or die trying. She was never one to give up and she certainly wasn't going to start now. Mike/Julie
1. The Deluxe Movement

_This show is wonderful. Great characters, and a crazy plot that has finally given me good inspiration for a fanfiction. I've only seen the first four episodes at this point, and since I'm in Canada where it just aired, I'll be watching all the episodes as they are posted on the internet. _

_This fic is slightly AU, but its barley anything. I'm trying to keep it as close to the show as possible minus a few things. The main thing is the established romantic relationship between Mike and Julie. It's a fairly large chunk in this, but it's not going to be overwhelmingly just romance._

_This fic is also rated M for a reason. At this moment, I'm unsure just how graphic this will all get. I like to have lots of lemon-y bits through my stories, so that's to be expected. Also watch out for violence, gore, and other things along that line. If it's not your thing, then I don't blame you for not reading. But for all those who do read, I hope you enjoy. _

Of Angels To Be

Chapter 1: The Deluxe Movement

She hated hospitals. They were always too clean, and the waiting rooms were never big enough. The nurses were always too happy. The doctors were never around unless you were going into cardiac arrest or dying. There were too many ways into a hospital and not enough ways out. She despised them, and in return, they scared her, and she didn't scare easily. Maybe that's why she was so hesitant to open her eyes. The potent smell of rubbing alcohol and living people decaying away hit her like a wave the moment she woke. She kept her eyes screwed shut for as long as she could. It was a truly childish move, but she couldn't help it. She could ignore the smell, and she could pretend she was elsewhere with her eyes closed. Elsewhere sounded good about now.

And for a little while, she did and it was nice. She wasn't at home in her pod or even at Claire's. For a brief moment, she was in Motorcity, asleep in the back of her car with the uncomfortable odour of Jacob's newest creation slipping in through her open windows. The guys were laughing in the distance, maybe at Texas, maybe not, – all except one. He was with her. His arm draped over her side, and the two of them were pressed together just trying to fit on her back seat. Stark naked, cool sweat beaded their bodies, and she couldn't care less about how grimy she felt. He was still asleep, snoring softly, and he sounded strangely like Mutt's engine, a low grumbling purr. She had never stayed before. She never could… she never did.

The hospital smell seeped into her dream, and her eyes were forced open. The bright white of the room blinded her for a moment. Her chest tensed up at the sight of the curtains around her bed. She could feel her heart pounding behind her breast. She braced herself as she went to move up into a more comfortable position, but was forced to lie back down when a sharp pain shot up her spine and flourished in her shoulder blades. She cried out, clinging to the sheets until the pain ceased, but didn't try to move again. The covers around her were soaked with sweat, and she herself was still hot to the touch and wet. Looking down at her hands, the sights of needles and tubes of all sizes pierced into her veins shocked her. It took all her restraint not to pull them out herself. Heavy, beeping machines surrounded her cot. It almost felt as if they were closing in on her.

Suddenly, she heard a door open and shut from somewhere in the room. The curtain blocked her view, but the footsteps were coming imminently closer. She instinctively clung to the sheets harder, waiting for her visitor to arrive. Despite her waiting, she still jumped a little when the doctor pulled back the curtain, and stood before her with her chart covering his face. Her stomach sunk… doctors only showed up when you were going into cardiac arrest or dying and she certainly wasn't in cardiac arrest. Which meant… she was dying.

The doctor waved his hand in the air dramatically, and a nurse rushed to his aid from the hall. She watched with wide eyes, as he continued to read her chart, not even taking a moment to look at her as he did, and the nurse began removing the machines and IV tubes stuck in her hands and body. The nurse recognized her, but never said a word to the doctor, too scared to ask him a thing. He was a rather unapproachable sort of man, however frail as he was. She more than understood the nurse's uncertainty.

"Alright," The doctor cleared his throat and she prepared for the worst to leave his mouth, but it never did, "The surgery went splendidly. I'll write you a script for some pain killers, and it will take a little while until you'll be able to perform normal work again. I'll have the nurse assist you in changing, and then you can go back to your pod for a few days bed rest. No picking at your enhancement or using them until you're fully healed. Understood?"

"Yes," she hoarsely answered.

The doctor didn't say another word, and left. She kept her eyes on the nurse as she carried her clothes and laid them on the bed beside her. She helped her from under the covers, and started to aid her in changing. The pain in her back was dreadful, hot and jagged, and the nurse knew it too, but continued to keep her moving. She refused to look her in the eye. Something was off, the nurse wanted to say something so badly, but was holding her tongue. When she had her pants half way up her legs, the nurse finally spoke, "What are you doing here?"

"It's complicated," she told her starkly, but the nurse seemed even more unnerved by the answer than the question.

"Miss Kane," she whispered.

_**One week earlier…**_

The garage was strangely silent. Mike was hunched over on a stool at the bar, absentmindedly twiddling with a fork on his clean plate. He was feeling a little green around the edges, having just choked down a portion of what Jacob called "Squash Surprise". He was, however, sure that the dish lacked everything but the surprise, as the last time he'd seen squash was almost a year ago. It was one of those finicky vegetables they couldn't grow themselves, and for food like that they usually enlisted Julie. As their only good connection to Deluxe, she brought them a lot of luxury items when she could – toilet paper, vegetables… chicken wings. She really hadn't brought squash down in a while… he'd have to mention it to her. He had become particularly fond of the gourd.

He dropped his fork on his plate, quickly thanking Jacob for the meal, and slowly sauntered over to the cars. He watched Dutch's back for while as the lean man worked on the vehicles. They had been pretty beaten up in their last scuffle with Kane and his robots. They'd survive, but not without a decent amount of work. He shifted on the spot as he watched. Dutch sighed, putting down his blow torch and turning to face Mike behind him with a scowl.

"You're hovering again," he spat.

Mike shrugged softly, "No. I'm just checking up on you."

"You're hovering," he sighed forebodingly, "Seriously, go do something – bother Chuck or Texas, but, man, let me work."

Mike's shoulders heaved with tedium and he forced himself to walk away from Dutch and Mutt. He hated waiting, especially when it meant he couldn't drive. They were also at a hefty disadvantage with the cars currently out of commission. They were their portable defence. Without them, Kane could easily walk in and take over. Sure, Mike had his staff, but he was still only one person. Maybe he should consider getting together with Texas and teaching the others some self defence in case of an emergency. It would certainly be entertaining if nothing came of it – and with everything in the shop, it wasn't as if they had anything else to do.

It was settled. He'd go find Texas, and when Julie got back from her shift at Kane Co. they'd start. He circled the garage a few times, each time around narrowly missing Texas. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and his head whipped wildly back and forth in search of the boy. After a few more laps, his patience had grown thin and Mike gave up on his idea. It was probably a misguided hope anyway. Chuck would never think of deploying fighting tactics in battle if it came to it, Dutch was too busy to even take the class. And what was he thinking? Working along with Texas trying to teach people something… the fact he was even considering the feat was proof enough of his boredom.

He trudged back to the bar, momentarily stopping to check on Mutt once again only to have Dutch scold him until he continued on. He sat back on the same stool from before, where his empty plate and fork still remained. Jacob turned to him and with a smile slapped another large scoop of "Squash Surprise" on his plate before returning to the dessert he was making on his stove. Mike poked the yellow-brown mush with his fork, and sighed inaudibility to himself as it jiggled uncontrollably in front of him. He shovelled a few mouthfuls down his throat, swallowing as quickly as he could to avoid tasting the presumed squash-less dish. It certainly was a silent day, and silent, often, meant boring. Mike was, without doubt, bored.

Luckily, things never stayed silent for long. His attention was quickly turned from the still jiggling mound on his plate when one of Kane's announcements popped up on a scarlet screen just to Jacob's left. The two stared at the screen with distaste as Kane's hologram smiled sickly at them.

"Hello Deluxe," He greeted, "It has been a great few years. We, as a city, have made expediential strides in making the greatest utopian society the world has yet to see. Now, it is my pleasure to announce that it is time to continue with the 'Deluxe' movement. Soon, we as a people will be as exceptional as our dear city."

Without another word, the announcement was over and the screen collapsed into itself and disappeared. Mike whipped his head back to Jacob, who looked just as distraught and confused as he was. His jaw tensed up and he slammed his fist against the bar in anger. Jacob's head was shaking to himself.

Suddenly, Julie's contact screen popped up in front of Mike. Behind her, he easily recognized the white, sterile backdrop of Kane Co. She has a slight panicked look to her and he instantly knew she was worried. She frowned, taking a quick double take behind her to confirm she wasn't being watched and spoke softly, "Mike, I think we have a problem."

"We saw the announcement Jules; what's going on," he asked hurriedly and her frown intensified.

"I don't know, and I don't have the clearance to find out, but I have a bad feeling about this."

"Me too," he spat, "how quickly can you get down here?"

"I just want to try and dig up some more information-"

"No," Mike interrupted, "Something is up in Deluxe, and you're safer down here."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know. It's everyone else I'm worried about."

She paused, biting her lip, "I'm on my way."

'Thanks Jules. See you in a few."

She nodded, and the screen dissipated. Jacob had a slight amused smirk on his face, barley covering the fright Kane had placed in him. Mike cocked an eyebrow at him and he only shrugged in response.

"I'd watch what you say to that girl," he mused.

Mike glared at him, "We have more important things to worry about right now."

"I know," he said sadly, his face dropping, "I know."


	2. The Archangel Project

_Thanks for the reviews guys! I'm glad you're all enjoying this. I think we could all use a little more Mike/Julie in our lives so I'm happy to deliver._

Of Angels To Be

Chapter 2: The Archangel Project

Everyone had come to rendezvous in Hudson's lab. The scientist had been found pacing uncontrollably after the announcement, his face white as a sheep and body shaking wildly as he walked. It had taken Jacob nearly an hour to calm him enough to speak. Luckily, by that time, all the burners had managed to make it. The last, surprisingly, being, not Julie, but Texas who had been sleeping atop the roof of the garage – which, ultimately, explained why Mike couldn't find him earlier. But more important things than possible self-defence training had to be accomplished and the only one who could possibly bring light to the situation and Kane's newest plan was still attempting to calm down in front of Jacob.

Mike walked up and took the empty space beside Julie. Even beyond his worry about the coming events, he found enough in himself to smile apologetically at her. Her eyebrow cocked suspiciously at him and without a word she moved to stand beside Jacob and the doctor. He winced audibly to himself as she left.

From behind him, Chuck spoke up with sympathy, "In the emotional dog house?"

"Yeah," he admitted miserably.

"What did you do?"

"I may have," he bit his cheek as he talked, "accidentally insulted her strength as a woman…"

"Wow," Chuck mumbled, "dude, that sucks."

"Yeah, it does, Chuckles."

After a few minutes of uncomfortably silence, Hudson had finally calmed enough to speak coherently. He fixed his jacket as he took a proper stance in front of the group, and they all knew immediately they were in for a heck of a ride with Kane if Hudson was this shaken by the whole situation.

"I believe Kane was referring to project A00781," he stated.

"Which is," Jacob asked solemnly and Hudson shifted on his spot awkwardly as all eyes continued to look to him for answers.

"It wasn't my project, so I don't know much," he confessed with a touch of shame, "but it was based on your old research."

"Mine? It was all inconclusive."

"You know that's never stopped Kane before. He started the project mere weeks after you left."

"Do you guys want to let us in on this," Mike interjected.

Jacob looked to him, old scars resurfacing in the form of guilt across his face, "Before I left Kane Co, I was working on combining human tissue and biomechanics. It was meant to help people – restore limb movement, give people with disabilities new hope. I can't even imagine what Kane has done to the original purpose since."

"Wait," Chuck waved his hands out in front of him as he comprehend the words exiting Jacob's mouth, "you were trying to combine man and machine?"

"Came pretty close too, but there were too many undetermined factors and the tissue wasn't taking to the machinery as if it were human as well. If anything even happened, it was that the biological host rejected all biomechanics we tried to attach to it."

"That is so cool…"

"Not so much anymore, bud," Mike told him starkly before turning his attention back to Hudson, "What exactly does this project A00- whatever entail, Doc?"

"To put it simply… biomechanical enhanced human beings."

The room went silent at the doctor's words. Kane was planning on turning his own citizens into human science projects. The thought itself was almost unfeasible, but none of them would put the idea past a mad man like Abraham Kane. Worse, if he succeeded, he would have an entire army of super soldiers at his fingers. Regular, innocent people would be forced to do his dirty work, and if any of them fought back… the only word that came to mind was "terminate" and that didn't settle easy on Mike's gut. He turned to the rest of the Burners and they all had similar looks of disgust and horror swept across their faces – all except Texas, but he really couldn't expect him to catch on so fast.

"Cyborgs," Dutch moaned, "Now he has access to cyborgs!"

"Not cyborgs necessarily – many of the enhancements may not even be visually noticeable," Hudson said grimly, "We may not be able to see them coming if he sends them to Motorcity. But, I was never on project A00781, so I cannot say for sure. I don't even know what name the project even goes by now."

"Trust me, when it comes to Kane, it's always been go big and noticeable or go home," Mike spat, his hands curling up into fists at his side.

And, as if it had been waiting for a sign, the announcement came. The screen appeared in front of Julie's face suddenly and everyone swiftly dashed behind her to get a view. Kane laughed on the screen and it sent chills up their spines. Mike put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them reassuringly. One of her hands immediately came to rest on his, but she didn't turn to look at him, too fixated on the video in front of her.

At least you could always count on impending doom to get you one foot out of the dog house and back into your relationship.

"Hello Deluxians," Kane yelled enthusiastically, taking the time to laugh heartily once more before continuing, "I know you've all been excited to hear more about the newest frontier in the 'Deluxe' movement. As my gift to you, I give you what I like to call the 'Archangel Project'. It will be like nothing you've seen before. People around the world will be on their hands and knees begging for what I now give you. But, first, the wonderful interns here at Kane Co will take the first plunge – testing the project before it becomes accessible to you, the citizens of Deluxe. All interns should report tomorrow morning to Doctor Murray Green for your assignment."

Julie's stomach rose to her throat and she could feel everyone's eyes shift from the collapsing screen to her. She gulped. Mike's hands tensed up on her shoulders and she soon went numb, though she wasn't sure whether it was from him was cutting off circulation or her body was going into shock. She mumbled softly to herself, "All interns…"

She slipped out of Mike's grasp, grabbed his hand, and roughly pulled him out of the lab. He turned to the rest of the group to stop them from following. This was not a more the merry time. She didn't speak as she led him away, but she didn't have to for him to know there were many conflicting thoughts adorning her mind. He could see it in her face, her walk, and most of all her hands. He could feel them shaking. His jaw tensed. He could only recall once when he'd seen Julie's hands shake, he smirked absently to himself, and it was not for such _serious_ reasons.

She stopped them outside of Nine Lives. Without so much as a pause, she opened the passenger door and looked at him expectantly. Now, he knew, was not the time to be chivalrous, and a gentlemen. Mike obeyed and slide onto the seat. She followed quickly, stepping in and straddling his lap, shutting the door behind her. His hands naturally nestled in on her waist. As soon as she was comfortable, she went for the kill, and pushed her mouth on his. He sighed, kissing her for a brief moment, and pulled back. She looked at him exasperatingly.

"I think we should talk about this," he stated and she huffed.

"Later."

"Jules…"

"No, Mike," she said sternly, her face diving into the crease of his neck and kissing up to his ear. He released a stifled groan and when her fingers slipped under his jacket to take it off, he complied without much thought.

"Jules," he repeated, trying to sound more firm of tone but failing miserably, "This isn't something we can just ignore."

She retreated from his neck and spoke to him with the most worrisome combination of anger and fright he'd ever heard out of her mouth, "Shut up, and take off your pants."

He paused.

"Fine."

/

It was an unspoken rule of Motorcity to never bother a parked car with its low lights on.

In a city constantly under fire by the most sophisticated weapons known to man, and without access to decent building supplies not at an ungodly cost, buildings were no longer safe and often crumbled and fell day to day. Only the rich and resourceful could afford an actual roof over their heads. Thus, many of the less equipped citizens lived and thrived inside their cars. Over time, signals were needed to inform passers-by when someone inside their car was not to be bothered – a "do not disturb" sign of sorts.

Eventually, your low lights came to serve that purpose. Whether they were napping, having a private conversation, just wanted to be alone, or "rocking the boat", if their low lights were on, you went no where near that car unless it was an emergency. So, it was no surprise to the rest of the Burners and Jacob, that when they made their way back to the garage, Jacob insisting they try to eat as he had after all just whipped up a new batch of "Squash Surprise", that Nine Lives' low lights were on, and the car was swaying forcefully.

"Do those two ever stop," Dutch moaned, sneering as he passed the vehicle.

Chuck laughed nervously, "I'm gonna go with… no."

The group of them sat down at the bar, and winced simultaneously as Jacob dropped a mound of "Squash Surprise" on a few plates and served it to them. Chuck poked it nervously.

"Uh, Chuck?"

"Yeah?"

"What's the chance this wobbly mess will kill us?"

"Decent."

"Decent? Damn."

"Oh c'mon," Jacob steamed, and gestured to the still moving car, "Mike ate it. He lived. See?"

Chuck yelped, "We see! We see! Now, can we just un-see?"

Texas huffed from beside him, and shoved a heaping spoonful of the mush down his throat, "The Texas doesn't need no lady, because I'm so awesome, a little woman would just get in my way. Yeah, Texas!"

There was a pregnant pause as everyone around him just turned to stare at him with distaste. He shoved more of the "Squash Surprise" into his gob.

"We're lonely too, Tex," Chuck mumbled, turning back to his plate.

"Yeah…"

/

"Well?"

"Well, I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Julie was slumped over Mike's bare chest. Her vest and shirt were thrown carelessly to the side with his. Her eyes were shut, finding the way she rose and fell with his breath calming. His arms were wrapped snugly around her waist and his chin was resting atop her scalp. Her hands clung to his biceps. The two of them were sweaty and tired, but still very much conscious.

"Of course you have a choice," he insisted, but he felt her shake her head against his chest in refusal, "maybe it's time you moved down here permanently. Since we saved Hudson we have Intel on Kane's biggest projects you don't have access to. You'd be a heck of a lot safer down here too."

"Yeah, with all Kane's attacks and all – so safe," she mumbled sarcastically.

"If Kane finds you out up in Deluxe, you're done."

"Yeah, but if I stay up there, I'll eventually get promoted and I'll be in the loop of the projects to come. Hudson's info is useful now, but what happens when we've thwarted every plan he's aware of."

"Thwarted?"

"I'm tired, leave me alone. Face it Mike, you need me up there. How many times have I saved your ass because of my connections in Deluxe?"

He laughed nervously, "Too many."

"Exactly," she mused tiredly, "Besides too many things could go wrong if I just left. It would be noticed."

"Too many things could go wrong if you stayed," he frowned, "You'll be Kane's latest guinea pig."

"Say what you want about Kane, and I already do, but his science is usually sound. I'm sure it's safe enough. It may even come in handy."

"I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?"

"There's nothing to talk me out of. I don't have a choice."

He opened his mouth to fight her on it, but quickly decided against it. Even if he didn't want to admit it, she was right. It was a whole lot more helpful to have her as their inside man. No one else was going to bail them out when they went and got themselves captured – which, unfortunately, was more often than he preferred to admit.

"Besides," she piped up softly, "who else would bring Texas those cheese things he likes? Without those, I think he'd go nuts and go on a rampage."

Mike laughed, "He does like cheese."

He waited for her to answer, confused when she didn't. He looked down at her, smiling to himself when he realized she had fallen asleep. He knew she would be upset with him later if he let her sleep, but he didn't care. Although he'd never admit it out loud, he wanted as much time with her as possible. He didn't trust this whole "Archangel" thing. Truly, it scared him, and he knew it scared her which made it all the worst. She was purposely putting herself in danger, possibly to save them. She was so stubborn. Maybe that made him a hypocrite, he was just as if not more so, but whether he was stubborn or not didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the end result. Maybe, he was just being paranoid. She was right; the science behind Kane's crazy death machines and experiments was _usually_ sound. Of course, usually didn't put his mind to rest.

None of this put his mind to rest.


	3. Mask

_*While I'm still technically not back from work, I've managed to find an internet source long enough to post a few chapters. I hope you guys enjoy them. I certainly enjoyed writing them. _

Of Angels To Be

Chapter 3 - Mask

The role of the best friend is often the most underappreciated aspect in one's moral dilemmas. They sit, they listen, they advise if possible, but the looming situation in one's path seems to outweigh the hell the best friend ultimately goes through for your sake. Not to diminish the seriousness of your issue, but no one likes to sit and listen to the same problem over and over in different forms for hours on end, week after week, and inevitably year after year. No matter how much the best friend loves and feels for you – it gets dull. A dull knife can't cut, and in such a way the dull situation is like a knife trying to cut a steak. You're never going to break into meaty goodness unless you sharpen it; a new perspective or turn. But Claire knew very well this new addition to Julie's constant inner turmoil wasn't going to cut the meat. It may, in fact, dull the knife further – quite possibly to the point where the best friend may actually give up on the steak all together and go for the greasy French fries from down the block.

"You're going to _what_!?"

Julie was sitting with her face buried in her palms. She wasn't crying, no where near it, but could no longer keep her head up from the sheer frustration of, well, being _her_. Knee deep in shit was the graceful way of putting it. She had really put herself in a situation now. She told Mike she was getting the surgery, so now it was either do or die. Quite literally, she was convinced.

"I don't have a choice," she mumbled pitifully – not bothering to lift her head from her hands. Luckily, a good year and a half of palm-talk on Julie's part gave Claire an advantage. She didn't trust Motorcity when it came to privacy and she was the only one, except for _maybe_ Mike, _maybe_, that could understand her when she was in her depression pose. That blonde guy was staring at her from across the bar, and as sweet as it was it was also a little creepy. Charles? Charlie? Whatever… while he may have been out of ear range for now, she had no doubt others could be listening. She wasn't keen on eavesdroppers… or dirt. And Motorcity was certainly dirty.

"Of course you have a choice, girl," she muttered at Julie's ear, but she just shook her head in return, "Don't be stupid."

"I'm not being stupid," she spat - that got her out of her hands, "I'm being rational."

Claire motioned for her to quiet down, and Julie immediately sighed. She turned to the blonde. Cornelius… Carlos… Cory…?

"Chuck," Julie moaned, but the power in her voice was easily notable, "I think we need a moment."

Chuck! That's right! Claire rolled her eyes to herself and heaved a sigh when Julie faced her again. They spoke in whispers and hushed tones – as was required with such topics. Even as Julie explained it all over again, the only thing ringing through Claire's mind was the word "stupid" repeating over and over. Would Mike and the rest of the Burner's be mad? Yeah, no duh. Would they get over it? Hell yeah. They had admitted it themselves that they need her. She is one heck of an asset, and her intentions, as misguided as they are, were good. Crazy isn't hereditary – but the way Julie treated it, you'd think it was. Like walking on eggshells, they just kept cracking under her the more she stepped, and she was only a few critical steps from falling. Hearing from anyone else of Julie's DNA would be damaging. Coming clean was the smart move, as Claire had been insisting from the start.

Besides, according to late night dishing, Mike couldn't go very long without grabbing her and turning on the low lights – he'd be on his knees yelling sweet nothings at her in a matter of days. That boy was borderline_ whipped_. And where the faithful leader went, his little team was sure to follow. She would be fine. They weren't going to go into a blood-thirsty mob mode. Some serious talks hear and there, some hurt feelings, Mike on his knees and presto! Everything would be a thousand times better than before. Assuming, Julie could just stop being stupid for a few moments and listen. She was so stubborn…

"Alright, alright," Claire stopped her with her hands, "Just let me get this straight. You would rather have an experimental surgery than tell the people who love you the truth – for reals, girl?"

Julie gave her an exasperated glare. Claire rolled her eyes, and winced when she felt her foot hit something mushy on the ground. Julie snickered lightly at her face and looked down amused at the yellow mush smothering Claire's supposed to be pristine shoe.

"Squash Surprise," she mused.

Claire cried out and shook as much of the mouldy goop off her foot as possible.

She sighed, accepting her shoe's fate, and looking Julie spoke intensely, "You can fix this. It would be so easy! Just go up and 'Hi Mike! How are you? Wanna go fuck? Oh, by the way, Kane's my dad, but it's totally cool!'"

"I don't talk like that," Julie hissed, "and that would never work and you know it. I have a plan."

"Becoming a cyborg isn't a plan."

She face palmed and glared at her friend. Claire shrugged.

"Everything would be so much easier," she continued.

"Oh yeah, eternal hate and distrust…"

_Stupid._

"Exile!"

_Stupid._

"The Duke of Detroit could put a bounty on my head – and he would! The drama queen…"

_Stupid._

"My dad would be furious! He'd kill me for disobeying him!"

_Maybe not so stupid…_

"I'd have no where to go!"

_And we're back to stupid._

"So easy…"

Claire glowered at her, "You're overreacting. Nothing like that will happen. These guys love you – no matter how totally screwy your parentage is."

"Sure, because finding out your friend has been lying about the fact her father is a power mad dictator is forgivable."

"You are impossible to talk to," she huffed.

"Tell me about it," Mike's voiced piped up from behind them and the two instantly froze. They turned to look at him slowly. His expression was unreadable, as it usually was. Claire turned to stare at Julie with a face a cross between fright and wonder. Julie's heart froze behind her chest and her gut started bubbling as if someone had lit a forest fire in her stomach and it was starting to rage.

"Hey cowboy," she greeted as calmly as she could muster.

"Can we talk?"

"Sure."

As he pulled her away gently, she turned to Claire with panic. Claire shrugged sympathetically and urged her forward. With a heavy, but nearly inaudible, sigh Julie continued with Mike. Maybe someone up there hated her – these kind of things always seemed to happen to her. Or maybe it was fate; maybe it was for the best… _maybe_… she was dead. He led her behind the garage. Her head was constantly whipping back and forth, surveying the surroundings. No one without a car was in the immediate vicinity. She could hear engines in the background, but none were close enough to pose any threat. She watched from the corner of her eyes as he also looked around for a moment. She gulped; he knew, he had to have heard, and now he was going to confront her. She wasn't in a good place to be confronted – especially Mike's way. Absolutely dead.

In a matter of moments, she was pressed into the back wall of the garage. One of his hands was keeping her pinned at her waist while the other was being used as a balance above her head. She refused to look at him; her feet and the ground had suddenly become much more interesting and a lot less dangerous. She jumped with shock when he placed a wet kiss just below her jaw. What the hell way he doing? Seducing her, then when she's lulled into a false sense of security go for the kill? As his mouth moved further down her throat, a moan slipped from her mouth. Well, if that was his plan, he was certainly succeeding. He smirked against her flesh and chuckled hoarsely to himself when he bit down lightly and she gasped. Her paranoia dissipated when his hands grasped her thighs and hoisted her higher up the wall. Her hands clung to his shoulders while he ground his hips into hers with a grunt.

"Is this what you meant by 'talk'," she asked and pulled his face out from the crook of her neck and held it in her palms.

"Uh… yeah," he mumbled, leaning forward and kissing her forcefully.

Claire's voice ran out, but Mike wasn't slowed by the outburst, instead he seemed to become even rougher with her, "You two alright back there?"

Julie pulled her mouth off of his, much to his obvious dismay, "we're fine! We're just going to-"

His mouth slammed back onto hers before she could finish. She pulled back again, giving him a quick stern look which only drove his lips back to the sensitive skin of her neck, and shouted, "A bit!"

"More like a while," he corrected, nipping fiercely at her skin without halting.

She giggled softly, "What's the occasion?"

He froze, and pulled back to look at her, "I have a plan."

Her face dropped, "What kind of plan?"

"I figured out a way for you to move down here," he said starkly.

"You know I can't do that!"

She dropped out from his arms and crossed hers over her chest. The heat of foreplay quickly left her body and an angry cold front took its place. They both glared at one another – neither backing down, while such ferocity was usually beloved by the other, it certainly was not now. Eyes stared into eyes crossly, and she openly huffed.

"I don't see why you can't," he hissed, shoving his hands in his pockets in frustration.

"You need me up there!"

"We can find another double agent," he insisted, "You're not the only one down here."

"But I am the only one you know," she spat, brows furrowing, "and the only one who won't bleed you dry. You all barely have enough money to support yourselves down here. How do you expect to support me and pay for an insider?"

"You'd be helping with the customs parts – that's a given."

"I know that, but it still wouldn't be enough."

"We would make it work," he grabbed her shoulders and his face hovered mere centimetres from hers, "What happens when something goes wrong?"

The pain in his eyes shocked her, but she managed to keep her own anxieties as far down inside her as she could muster. He saw it still, but didn't bring it up. Her hands snaked up to his face and she smiled briefly and pathetically as her thumbs trailed up his cheeks to his temples, "Nothing is going to happen."

His hand met hers on his cheek, "Something is Jules. I know it. I have a feeling."

"Not all your feelings are right…," she began softly, "No. I have to – you don't understand."

"How could I not understand? We all left Deluxe for a reason and that was to get away. You _need_ to get away!"

"No, I don't. I _need_ to help you guys, and I am most helpful up there. I can't build weapons, or calculate survival rates and other science junk. The only thing I have going for me is that I can get you guys information and save your butts when your get captured."

He let go of her and punch the wall as hard as he could, "You are so stubborn!"

She flinched as he moved, and felt the guilt in the pit of her stomach rise. The words that left her mouth were accidental, and she regretted them immediately but they still left her mouth nonetheless, "Oh yeah, I'm the stubborn one."

Her hand flew to her mouth and he looked at her irksomely. She opened her mouth to apologize, but instead closed it, straightened out her clothes and walked briskly back to the bar. Her throat was tight, and it was taking all her strength not to let every damned emotion plaguing come up and show itself. She wasn't a crier. She didn't like crying and she didn't like anyone to see her cry. So, even as everything literally started to fall around her, she managed to keep it in – no matter how much it hurt.

Claire wasn't at the bar anymore, she really couldn't have expected her to wait, but part of her truly did. Julie could see her off in the distance, standing awkwardly while Chuck attempted to impress her. She walked over to the nearest stool and sat upon it. She felt a small tear roll down her cheek, and she quickly reached to dispose of it. Great, there goes the whole no crying in public rule. She frowned deeply. She was overwhelmed. There were too many options, and none of them had the desired ending. She wasn't looking for a happily ever after – the perfect house and the white picket fence. She was smarter than that. But she didn't want to live in turmoil. She hated the secrets. She hated the lies. She hated it all. If only Claire were right, and it was as simple as "Hey Kane's my dad, but it's cool".

She jumped when a bottle was placed on the counter in front of her. She looked up at Jacob, who was smiling sadly at her, and back at the beer. Part of her wanted to mention she was only 17 and the legal age was still a few years away, but decided against voicing it. Besides, beer was a rarity. Jacob was one of the only restaurateurs, if you could even call him that, who worked year round to produce his own – and no matter how disgusting it was in comparison to a real drink, beer was beer. She pulled the bottle into her hands, popped the top with a nearby bottle opener and took a long swig. The bottle landed against the counter with a heavy clack.

"That was one heck of a fight," Jacob mumbled absentmindedly while cleaning glasses at the sink just to her right.

"You heard that," she winced.

"All of Motorcity heard you two."

"Great," she moaned, chugging down the rest of the beer. She reached into her pocket to pull out some loose change, but Jacob waved his hands to stop her.

"On the house."

"Thanks… maybe I should go apologize."

"Maybe," Jacob shrugged, "but Mike's probably already out on an angry drive. You know how he is."

"Yeah."

There was a long pause, but it wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as Julie would have predicated. Jacob continued to clean while she sat craned over the bar, the empty beer bottle spinning under her delicate fingers. She sighed, her thoughts pregnant with worries and fears. She felt the tears coming up again, but keep a handle on them this time. When Jacob finished with the glasses, he came over and put both his hands on the counter in front of her. She looked up at him, patiently waiting for words.

"He's scared," he said.

She nodded, smiling to herself miserably, "I know. I am too."

"You know," Jacob started to speak, but stopped momentarily to chuckle at himself with a strange sadness, "when I was a boy, my mom loved the theatre. She dragged me to all sorts of plays and musicals – I hated them all, but she kept taking me. There was this one about a girl. She wanted to help everybody, but she couldn't as the person she was, so she put on a mask. Suddenly, she was helping all sorts of people, but it all overwhelmed her. By the end of it, she had lost sight of who she really was, a poor girl or a masked power figure, and went mad."

"And," Julie asked slowly.

"And that's it. She went crazy."

"What kind of an ending is that?"

"One to learn by," he told her bluntly, "Masks just make us lose sight of reality Julie. We should all just take them off, only then can our problems truly be solved."

She paused, stuck in the spot. Julie looked at him intently; eyes wide and blaring "How long have you known?"

"The whole time," he shrugged, "You look just like your mother."

"You never told anyone…"

"It wasn't mine to tell, and I understood your motives – still do really. A lot of good it's going to get you now though."

A weight lifted of her shoulders and she leaned in to look Jacob in the eye. Old memories of the grey man with long hair that used to work with her father surfaced, as blurry as ever, but suddenly understandable. She took his hands and held them tightly, "I don't remember her."

"She was just like you; always putting herself into harms way to protect others. If she could see your father now, God knows what she'd say. She probably would have come down here too. She was stubborn as a bull, though. A maddening woman to argue with – like someone else I know."

Julie chuckled lightly. The loud rumble of Mutt's engine came closer, and she watched with wide and interested eyes as the car pulled up into the lot. She bid Jacob a silent good-bye and hurriedly made her way to Mutt before Mike could leave the driver's seat. He had his legs out the door when she made it. Even with everyone around, and fully aware to the fact they had just fought, she threw herself onto him. He accepted her without a thought, pulling her onto his lap, and ravaging her mouth. He was still angry, she could feel it, but that would change soon enough. They moved back into the car, the door slamming behind them – leaving the stunned world, with all its issues and worries outside. It was all a conversation for another day.


	4. Glass Slippers

Of Angels To Be

Chapter 4 – Glass Slippers

Every little girl wants to be a princess. The appeal is plain to see. The glitz and glamour, the supposed worry-free life, the princes breaking down their doors – but there is more to it, as there is with everything. Every little girl wants to be royalty because of the harsh reality that is the real world, whether they know it or not. Money; princesses have more than enough. Fitting in; everyone would want to be her instead. Hand-me-downs; as if. Romance, adventure, power; it's in the job description.

And the happy ending is almost guaranteed.

But, as each little girl grows older, reality does catch up. The hope of being a princess slowly dissipates until nothing is left of it but an old memory, and sometimes resent. Who'd really want to be some snooty fairy tale princess anyways? There would be so many responsibilities, and the balls would grow so dull after a while. Most princes were probably more like toads too, all the generations of inbreeding. And happy endings were preposterous as one should already know.

Julie was the closest thing Deluxe had to a princess and, much to her dismay, was treated as such. The sheltered girl, who grew up watching white buildings go up and a rusty old city go down, was brought out into the spot light. In the wake of Mike Chilton's betrayal, Deluxe finally learned her name. Kane's mysterious daughter – rarely seen, and even more rarely remembered, exposed and out in the open. Nearly sixteen at the time, her life set in rules and structure, the new attention was not a welcomed thing. Now, however, it was down right dangerous.

She worked around the clock avoiding being on air with her father, the conversances, the announcements, and the endorsements – anything that could put her and her true identity out there. Yet, she still had to be proper and fully supportive. Responsibilities and balls, and they truly did get rather dull after a while. She certainly had become sick of wearing her Kane Co. approved formal wear and having the highest staff of her father's military gawk at her while Kane proved he was none the wiser. Her suitors were all toads, ugly and stupid with nothing more to offer her than more money, assuming they weren't after hers, and her father's blessing. Well, she wasn't in desperate need for either.

She was the new age Cinderella. She was expected to prance around the halls in her little dainty glass slippers, delicate and pretty and all too oblivious. She was a symbol of what Deluxe should be like. Children wanted to be her. Heir to Deluxe – and she wasn't unbeknownst of her father's plans to groom her into the perfect daughter in the near future either. Even as she walked the halls of her father's main building, she was bombarded with expectations. Float, don't trudge! No slouching! Be polite and proper! Look your best! Always say hello!

You are an _example_!

And an example she tried to be. She put up with it all – the piano lessons, the on a whim father daughter days, the faked mutual hate for Chilton and the Burners. But, she knew she had to. This was the hole she had dug, and often there were days she had convinced herself that the rise of Deluxe was her fault. Like a child blaming themselves for the divorce, she was sure it was her own doing, in some way or another, and that she could have stopped it earlier. Of course, such thoughts were ridiculous, and as it was not the child's fault, it was not Julie's. No one could have stopped Kane, not even his own daughter, but she found she couldn't stop the irrational thinking on such days.

Many may go as far as to call her paranoid with certain things, and to a degree, when she was worked up enough, she was. The worst outcome was probably the most likely. Sometimes, that kept her safe – kept her from running blindly into a trap. Sometimes all it did was destroy her inside, force her into a corner.

She grinned and bared it all. She kept it all down. Claire was often her output, and it was enough to keep her stabile, but some things could never be said out loud for fear of losing herself. There were times she was sure she already had. She couldn't place herself anymore. It was no longer as simple as Julie daughter of Abraham, or Miss Julie Kane. Somewhere along the line, grey areas had been created, and along that way, her identity became her downfall. For as much was people loved her, wanted to be her, they loathed her too.

The little girls who finally grew to young women, their dreams on the way out and the wish to be a princess slowing churning into distain, hated her because her dreams would never be grown out of. Julie was, after all, the closet thing to a princess. She wasn't some picture perfect floozy either, she was real. Which made her all the more easy to hate. Julie truly couldn't blame them. She often hated herself just as much for it. Her status ruined dreams. The position was taken, filled, earned by right of birth. There will be no more royalty here today, nor any day. But they could have it. She didn't want it and after they had it, neither would they.

Every little girl wants to be a princess. They want the easy life. They want the princes, and the frocks, the money, the fairy god mothers, and the power. They want the guarantee that at the end of it all everything will work out – the glorious finale, and the happily ever after. No matter how dark it all may seem now. But they don't get it.

Because even for a princess, sometimes it never gets any better.

Julie sat in front of her mirror blankly. She was dressed in her best gown, her hands clasped in her lap tightly. Her hair was pulled up so high it felt like her locks were being slowly ripped from her scalp. The rules of her appearance had been laid out flat for her – lighten up on the eye liner, and none of that _scandalous_ lipstick. She needed to look inviting; not like some punk rocker from the old days. Those days were done and Kane was not the type of man to revisit them, even momentarily. The "K" stitched across her chest was evidence enough.

Her eyes scanned the uncomfortable reflection in front of her. She looked too… clean. Like a doll, she was perfect. Her dress was made to fit, nails manicured, not a hair astray, and face light and pretty. It was disgusting. She was sick of white, and clean.

A knock at her pod's door didn't faze her. She turned to face the mindless drone as he stood in her doorway. He almost seemed to shake on the spot under her harsh gaze. A little less make-up didn't make her any the less standoffish. Perhaps her appearance did just the opposite, or maybe she truly was just unapproachable when grim.

"Miss Kane," he greeted.

She smiled politely, but coldly, and rose from her seat, "yes?"

"There have been a few threats," he explained, his hands quivering together. She was laughing on the inside, "Your father asked me to escort you to tonight's gala."

She walked to the door and he immediately offered his arm. She inwardly scoffed and refused to take it, sauntering right passed the unidentifiable man. He did a double take, and she laughed as he locked her pod and chased after her. She could almost hear her father's screams if anything happened to her. It seemed nearly good enough to fall down stairs for.

"Burners," she mused jokingly.

"Well, uh, no. Not this time. Don't worry Miss Kane, even if it were the Burners and that damned Mike Chilton, you'd be safe."

"Oh, because I suppose you'd protect me," she stopped walking and turned to the masked intern with a catty smile, "what if I were a Burner? And what if that damned Mike Chilton and I were _something_…"

She heard him audibly gasp at her words, "I'd watch your mouth Miss. Your father would not like hear such sickening words leave your mouth!"

She was almost taken back by his tone, almost, but of course, she was not, as it was nothing new. She loved to torture her fathers' underlings with "blasphemy". It wasn't as if they were going to inform him of her words, and even if they tried, she'd never receive the blame. The smirk returned, ghosting across her mouth and she continued to walk down the hall to the gathering. A strange calmness overtook her when she found the need to be uncharacteristically bitchy in Deluxe. A good vent, so to speak. It was glorious, dirty, and she certainly didn't feel so white afterwards.

The walk to the ballroom was long. With every step, she felt her toes getting pinched even more by her ridiculous kitten heels. Beside her, the intern was fuming. She had really gotten this one going. Her smile didn't last long as they neared the doors to the gala. She could already hear it raging on the other side. Although full formal, her father's celebrations resembled that of a bar nearing a brawl. It had always reminded her of a debutant ball gone wrong; as if someone had spiked the tea. If they weren't always so horrible and degrading to her as a person, they would probably amuse her, just like the boys when they had one too many. She smiled briefly; they were the most ridiculous drunks. Chuck was paranoid beyond belief. Dutch could never sit still, and often had the munchies. Texas was, well, Texas but multiplied. And Mike, her smile widened for a moment, was possibly the most affectionate drunk she'd ever come across – and there were a few affectionate men in her father's militia who had made it very known to her when they were drunk that they were aware she was nearly legal. His vocabulary turned to "You know I love you guys"; hugs were passed around every few minutes, and there were many sloppy kisses for her.

Her tiny grin was gone by the time the man in white beside her opened the door. She gulped uncomfortably. Tonight would go like very other night. She would have to dance with anyone who so much as approached her. At least they wouldn't be so _touchy_ then… Then at dinner, she'd sit at her father's right, poking meekly at her disgustingly fancy food while Kane bellowed and howled with laughter, his own dinner flying piece by piece from his mouth. As dinner would near its end, most of the lighter weights would be intoxicated enough to think they could get away with groping her. Usually by this point, she faked a headache or came up with some other bullshit excuse to relieve her from it all. She, also, had a steady flow of back-up plans safely stashed up her sleeve in case her typical tactics couldn't save her.

And, per standard, all went as predicted. She sat uncomfortably beside Kane at dinner. The company and military hung on his every word as he roared bad jokes to the whole room. She wiped a spot of veal that had hit her cheek off with a gloved finger. Nothing was very appetizing after it had been spat on you. She scowled, and kicked her shoes off; her feet throbbed. She had spent much of the night sneaking her hair down bit by bit very slowly. By dinner, she had decent chunks near her face fully taken down. No one mentioned it to her; most thought it must have been some new fad hitting Deluxe.

Her ear drums stung after Tooley burst out with a horrendous laugh across from her. He caught her eyes and looked at her endearingly. She smiled stiffly in response and turned back to her full plate. She listened as he tried to impress the table with a joke, and it ended up being worse than one of her fathers. No one laughed, and she almost felt sorry for him as his head fell slightly.

She never understood Kane's choice when he appointed the idiot as his right hand man. Yes, his loyalty was admirable, as pathetic, misguided, and down right stupid as it was. But, Kane told the idiot everything from his newest plans to his true feelings. He was a living tape recorder, but one with a mouth. After Mike left, Kane truly felt betrayed. She could understand wishing for an underling without a brain, but so much so that he really wasn't useful? If you hit the right buttons he'd probably spill everything. Julie's eyes widened and she felt a grin slyly return to her face.

She knew all the right buttons.

As dinner came to an end, she left her seat quietly. She had slipped her feet back into her tight shoes and tucked her loose hair behind her ears. He watched her with eager eyes as she approached him. With a breath for courage, she held her hand out to him, "Want to dance?"

She never did receive a proper answer. Barley after she had finished her words had he practically leaped from his chair and dragged her onto the dance floor. She smiled civilly and tried to keep as much space between them as they danced, although with the way he was moving she would hardly consider it dancing. Despite her best efforts, he kept pulling her in. Her jaw tensed and she sighed – may as use it all to her advantage. She knew Mike would probably throw a fit if he found out, but she didn't plan on telling him, so she figured she was safe. It was all for the good of Motorcity anyways, and it wasn't as if he hadn't put himself in compromising positions several times before. With dourness she pushed herself into Tooley, and she heard him gasp happily. It was now or never.

"Tooley," she spoke as seductively as she could muster. To her, it all sounded more like a croak, but it seemed to do the trick by the love-struck grin on his face.

"Yeah?"

"I've wanted to ask you something for a while now," she continued. His grin just intensified.

"Yeah?"

His eyes hoped for the obvious – an intense and passionate admission of ever undying love. Clearly, it never came, and the next words from her mouth just disappointed and displeased him.

"Could you tell me about the Archangel Project?"

She figured there was no point in beating around the bush with him; not that she thought she could handle it anyways. She was already starting to feel rather nauseous being this unnaturally close to him. She just hoped he wasn't brave enough to go for a grab.

He frowned, and whispered huskily, "I can't talk about that Julie."

"Sure you can," she tried to fake a giggle but it quickly down spiralled into a cough, "who am I going to tell?"

"I dunno…"

"I support my dad, and _you_, so much. I just want to be kept in the loop," she insisted.

He gulped as she pressed herself harder into his chest, "Yeah, I guess…"

"I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Well, the world could explode…"

"And just think it all could be our little secret. Nobody has to know you told me. It will just be_ you_ and _me_-"

"Robot parts," he blurted out, and a smile quickly came to her face.

"Well go on!"

"It's a kinda like new hands and stuff," she could tell he was having trouble coming up with the vocabulary to continue, "like made out of metal, but for a human!"

"You don't say," she feigned excitement as she urged him on.

He smiled goofily and happily persisted, "Yeah, it's really cool. I saw the scientist's finishing the first few of them. There was this robotic eye that shot lasers and shit and this pair of bars that go on your legs and you run super fast."

"That's amazing," she said, her heart and stomach dropping as he continued.

"And the best part," his voice dropped and the darkness to it had her furrowing her brows and staring at him with panic, "Motorcity and those stupid Burners aren't even going to know what hit them."

Julie jumped back out of his arms, and his looked at her sadly. She shrugged sympathetically, and apologized, claiming of a sudden stomach ache and left as speedily as she could. Kane didn't question her sudden absence, too drunk and giddy with his high commanders to even notice. She preferred that way. She ran from the ballroom, holding her dress up as to not step on it.

Hudson was right, they were all right and that was very bad. She needed to get the message out. They had been going on the assumption that they knew what Kane was doing but somehow the confirmation had turned her knees to jelly. Running was quickly becoming a task, but her drive kept her going. Mike had to know, he needed to prepare everyone.

In matter of days testing would begin, and Motorcity could be put in imminent danger in a matter of months – worse than they'd seen in a very long time. All in a matter of days… it didn't seem like enough time. Maybe they really didn't have enough time.

In only a few days… somehow, she'd have to be on an operating table.

In a few days, she might truly be there only asset to stopping it all.

She cried out frustratingly, kicking her shoes off and blindly running forward. Her feet were covered in blisters and welts and they burned as she ran. Her hair finally tumbled down and fell behind her. Her eyes were screwed so tight as she propelled herself that her make-up was starting to run.

She collapsed in front of her door. Her fingers clawed at the smooth white surface, and her forehead was pushed against it hard. She still didn't cry, although, she wanted to, if only for the brief moment of oblivious happiness that followed. From down the hall, Kane's laugh echoed. How had it all come down so fast around her? She hadn't the slightest.

She pulled herself up, her legs shaking under her. She quickly tapped the code for her pod on the scanner, and limped inside. Once the door locked behind her, she fell onto the nearest seat and opened her communication screen in front of her face. Instinctively, she did a small look around, and once sure she was truly alone, typed Mike's number out on the keypad. It began ringing, her chest tightening as each ring went by unanswered.

Finally he answered, his charming smirk relieving her worry a smidge, "Hey Jules – wait, what's wrong?"

"The Archangel Project. We were right. I didn't find out much, but weapons are involved, and Motorcity is in danger," she scrambled to find the words, but her urgency was heard.

"How much time do we have," he asked bleakly.

"Not long. The test period is never long enough. We could be seeing super soldiers as soon as next month," she muttered.

"Can you delay it?"

She paused, her stomach ballooning uncomfortably, "I don't think so. This is a lot bigger than me."

As the words left her mouth, they stunned her. He seemed to receive the same feeling, but kept his mouth shut on the matter. He was probably still drawing up plans to move her down with the guys. She pushed the thought aside; as much as she wished it was as easy as grabbing her car and going, it obviously wasn't. And it wasn't the money that worried her, she believed him when he said they'd work it out. It was everything else. It was always everything else. The info, the provisions, Claire… Kane. It was always all about Kane. And until it all came to an end, it would be, and even then she doubted his name would be forgotten.

"When's the earliest you can get down here?"

"Tomorrow morning."

He tensed, "See you then."

"Yeah…"

"And Jules," he interrupted her as she reached for the "end" button.

"Yes," she asked.

"Stay safe."

"You too," she smiled momentarily, and then closed the screen. It dissipated it front of her. Frozen, she didn't move. Her breathing was heavy and harsh. She heaved a sigh and finally moved from her seat. She needed to get the heck out of her dress, and find her shoes.

She jumped when a knock at her door boomed through the silence. Nervously, she rummaged through her hair and fixed her dress. She opened the door, half expecting to see her father in a drunken stupor. Confusion over took her when she found it was not Kane, but Tooley on her step.

"Uh, Tooley, hello… again."

"Hi Julie, um, I ah… you forgot these in the hall," he explained bashfully, holding her shoes out in front of him. She took them from him gratefully. She looked down at them, winced slightly; they were useless now. The insoles were torn and the satin around the heel was distinctively dabbed red. She carelessly tossed them behind her, much to Tooley's obvious shock. She shrugged, "Thanks."

She reached to close the door, but his hand shot out to stop her. Her mouth flat lined; an idiot and stupidly strong. Yeah, that was always a great combination.

"How's your stomach," he asked sheepishly.

She pursed her lips awkwardly, "uh, it's fine. Better now."

Before he had the chance to stop her again, she slammed the door shut. She yelled a rushed goodbye and another excuse out to him. He made a noise of understanding, and she left it at that. She opened the door so it was ajar and peered out into the hallway. She forced herself not to groan from frustration. Tooley hadn't left his place outside her pod, and didn't make any signs that he was moving anytime soon – freak.

Part of her questioned leaving her room to confront him, but once again his temper, stupidity, and indisputable strength entered her mind and she decided it was for the best to leave it. The thought of calling Mike for a distraction to at least get him away from her immediate area also crossed her mind, but that thought she too let pass. She was much too tired and frustrated to deal with it all. He would eventually leave, he always did. She wriggled out of her dress, leaving it to wallow on the floor near her bloodied heels. She grabbed a hair brush off her dresser but when she tried to pull it through her mane found it was not such an easy task and gave up on it altogether. She fell face first into her mattress and curled up in her white sheets.

The only thing keeping her from breaking down was the hope for a good dream, and with such, she slowly fell asleep.


	5. Invincibility Is A Lie

Of Angels To Be

Chapter 5 – Invincibility Is A Lie

"Juliana Theresa Kane! I need you stop crying and listen to me okay?"

The room was blindingly white. It had no windows or doors, but somehow she knew someone was waiting outside. The clocks on the walls and tables showed no time; every time she looked at one the hands seemed to morph into legs and walk away. There was a bed on the other side of the room, and the woman in it was yelling at her. It wasn't a bad sort of yelling, it was more like a loud but gentle scolding. But, she was six, and couldn't tell the difference, and so was scared.

Something was wrong. She couldn't tell you what though, she didn't know herself; but something was definitely wrong. She forced herself to stop crying. She scrubbed at the wetness on her cheeks with her palms until her face was red and raw. Carefully, she walked towards the bed. The woman was still screaming, but it was no longer words. She stared wide-eyed as the woman began to convulse violently, wrapped up in her sheets. She continued forward bravely, but her courage began to melt when she reached the bedside. The woman still wailed and trembled in front of her.

Suddenly, it all stopped and all went silent. The little girl remained by the bed with the woman, who seemed frozen. The woman looked cold and white, as white as the room. The little girl wondered for a moment if she were dead, and the thought sent her back into a fit of tears.

"Julie," the woman said, her voice had left her and her strength was gone. Her arm flung out over the side of the bed and the little girl took it immediately. The woman was indeed as cold as she looked, but she refused to let it go. From outside, the someone who'd been waiting was trying to get in. It was a man, and he was howling and screaming and beating at the walls, but the room had no doors or windows, and he was stuck outside, "Shh, shh… it's okay. Don't cry. Don't cry."

Blood started to trickle down from the woman onto the floor. It touched her shoes and the little girl wanted to wail and yell, but the woman's tight grip on her hand kept her at bay and strong. With the last of her strength, the woman moved in the bed. She turned to face the little girl, and she gasped. The woman had no face.

"Be strong, my darling," the voice seemed to come from nowhere and yet everywhere at the same time. This time, she was not scared. She tightened her grip on the woman's hand. The blood began to pour, but it longer fazed her. The red puddle at her feet, ever growing, went unnoticed as the woman continued. It felt as if she were smiling at her. The man was growing angrier behind the walls, and he voice was nearly overpowering. She turned to face it, but the woman pulled her face back to her blank one, "My warrior, my princess, my little Juliana."

"I love you," the little girl said. She could not control the words from her mouth but she did not regret them. They felt right, "I love you more than anything."

"I love you too," the woman said, and the little girl began to cry again, "No, no crying. Not now. No, no, no."

The little girl wept harder, "I can't help it!"

"Yes you can." the woman said sternly, "You can do anything."

"I _can't_ save you!"

The woman paused, but the little girl felt her smile at her, "No. No you can't. But that's not your fault, okay darling? It's my time."

The little girl stopped crying, if only to appease the woman. The woman moved back onto her back and sighed. Her hand was getting colder, and the floor was getting redder and wetter. The little girl looked down at the scarlet pool at her feet and back to the woman. Her grip was starting to falter.

"Does it hurt," the little girl asked shyly.

The woman seemed to laugh at her, "No baby. I can't feel anything."

There was a period of silence. The woman's breathing was loud and heavy. The little girl refused to let go of her hand, even as she realized the woman could no longer use it. Even the man outside had seemed to give up, and he had gone quiet. The woman laughed blissfully again. The little girl looked up at her, tears coming back, but she held them down.

"Julie," the woman whispered softly, "Stay safe."

"I love you," the little girl said again, and the woman made a sound of happiness at the words.

"I love you too."

Then the woman died. The last bit of warmth left her hand, and it fell from the little girl's grasp. Beside her, the man had wiled his way inside. He stood tall above her, he towered like a giant. He looked down at the woman sadly, and then down to her. Unlike the woman, he had a face, and she recognized him. Blankly, she reached up and took his hand. He held it firmly, so much so it almost hurt, but it comforted her.

"This shouldn't have happened," the man told her.

"It was her time," the little girl repeated.

The man looked at her shocked and bellowed at her, "No! It was not her time! Someone did this _to_ her!"

His grip on his hand tightened, and now it did hurt her. She tried not to show it but winced under his grasp unintentionally. The man didn't notice. He scowled at the woman's body.

"This should not have happened," he continued darkly, and the little girl practically shook with fear at his voice. Her free hand clawed at where he had her other captive. The man didn't notice, "But I'm going to fix it."

"Can you," the little girl asked thoughtlessly.

"Of course I can," he screamed and she yelped to herself in response, "When I'm done with this hell-hole of a city, it will be better. No more crime, or thugs, no more _THIS_! Everyone will be safe, and whoever doesn't want to be – well that's their choice if they want to die. Don't worry Julie, I'll keep you safe. I'll keep everyone safe."

Stay safe…

Stay_ safe_…

_STAY SAFE!_

…

Stay safe he said. Well, this certainly didn't seem very safe. It was so early it was still dark. The only people awake were the security guards and the most classified of her father's scientists. Neither of them would even think of not calling Kane if she was found wandering the halls at 3 in the morning. Then what would she do? If she had to give her father anything, he was a tyrant when it came to get information, and he was good at it too. That had always been one of Mike's biggest worries when it came to getting caught – besides, of course, being in prison for the rest of his life or Kane killing him. Whether people wanted to admit it or not, Mike and the Burner's were their best defence. And without Mike, she didn't even want to think what would happen to everyone.

She slipped into a corner when a guard started towards her. She held her breath, her heart beat ringing in her ears. He walked by her, completely unbeknownst. She breathed a sigh of relief and slowly started down the hallways again. She hadn't done anything this daring in a while at Kane Co. She had to hold her shoes as so her footsteps wouldn't resonate even more than they already did in the empty hall.

She had gotten lucky with Tooley last night. She was still feeling a little dirty, and not in the good way, from what she did to get the information from him, but it was worth it. The severity of the situation had finally come to light and none too soon. It still wasn't enough. She needed to know more, not only for Motorcity but for herself. She needed to know what she was up against. There was no going back now, no miracle answer, and no knight on a white horse to save her. Everyone knew she was getting the surgery, she had even told them she had met with that doctor from the announcement.

Of course, there was one tiny detail she had overlooked when it came to it all – actually getting the surgery. If Kane's daughter showed up on the intern list – it would all be put off as a glitch in the system and that would be the end of that. She obviously couldn't go in as herself, but that was a given.

She needed a plan.

She needed to get a look at the list. Her holograms could take care of the visual aspects, but she couldn't just show up as an intern no one's ever seen before. That also meant she'd have to somehow make a pre-existing intern disappear for a while. It was all so much and she'd have no backup. Doing everything herself would be a feat, and she had a time limit, but she wasn't sure just how short it was. For all she knew, the surgeries were planned for later today. She doubted it, but that didn't mean they weren't.

She stood outside the main doors to the Archangel Project's lab and slipped her shoes on. She took a breath for courage and tapped out the access code on the key pad beside the door. That was the easy part. Her father had entrusted her with all his top secret codes in case something were to happen. She chuckled a little at the irony. As the door opened, she quickly looked behind her to make sure no one was following her. No one was, and the nearest guard looked as if he were sleeping anyway. She slinked through the door and tiptoed through the lab.

The room was dark, and none of the scientists were up working late. After a few seconds of blindly walking the lab, hitting her knees and calves on tables, the lights automatically came on. She gasped at the room. She facing a wall lined with parts. They all shone under the florescent lights. There had to be hundreds of them – arms, legs, eyes. Jacob created the project to help people. Kane had twisted it, and now everything on the wall looked like a weapon. All the parts were sharp, with veins of blue and white pulsating. She could hear them pumping – like they were alive. She backed up slowly. She yelped sharply when the back of her calves snagged on a chair. She flipped backwards landing hard on her back over the seat of the chair. Her eyes widened when she caught hold of what was on the other wall. Pushing through the ache, she pushed herself off the chair and faced the opposite wall.

The enhancements that lined the wall were like something out of a story. None of them remotely resembled anything that could be human – claws, insect wings, horns, spiked tails. Like the others, the blue veins pulsated up them and vibrated through her ears. She stopped herself from stumbling back again. Her stomach was caught in her throat. Part of her was desperate to scream, but she kept it down. Her chest was tight, and her gut was twisting painfully.

Suddenly, her ears picked up on the sound of the keypad outside. She bit her lip, and bolted to the nearest computer. She smiled to herself when she touched the keyboard and the computer was already on and logged in. She quickly opened up the main projects folders, searching for anything remotely helpful. Document after document, she scanned them. Outside, the scientist was having trouble with keypad and swearing openly. It didn't give her any relief. Finally, she brought up the right file. She pressed print, and the door began to open.

She frantically closed everything on the computer. She ducked out of sight when the man walked in. He was frail and thin, but he was still a threat. He looked tired, and was cupping his coffee as if it would save his life. On all fours, she silently crawled around. The printer was so close, she just had to go a little farther. The scientist turned her way and she ducked under the nearest table, frozen and scared white. He stood at the table, and began shuffling through some papers. She bit her tongue to keep from sounding. She peered out from underneath and the printer was in sight.

"Opps," the man said from above her, and her heart went into overdrive, "forgot my breakfast. Can't work without my hash browns."

This was her chance, when his back was turned to leave; she bolted out from under the table. She grabbed the papers off the printer and ducked back under another table. The scientists turned back, startled and convinced he heard something. He left it to stress and sleep deprivation and opened the exit. She snuck up behind him pressing her body in the wall. He never caught on. He left the room, and just when he was at a safe distance, she followed. The door nearly caught her on the way out. She ran down the hallways opposite the scientist.

She gasped and bolted by a sleeping guard. She didn't turn to see if he awoke, but left it be and ran back to her pod as swiftly as she could. The longer she was out, the more danger she was in of getting caught. The papers in her grip with getting soft from the slickness of her palms.

She didn't stop until she was in her room. She collapsed in the nearest chair. She could feel her pulse in her neck and appendages. She was out of breath and gasping for air. She slammed the papers on the desk beside her. Her eyes were closed in disbelief. A laugh rose up her throat, and soon she was in a fit of chuckles and laughter. When it all finally died down, she turned to the list.

Her throat tightened uncomfortably when the sheer length of the list came into view. It told her everything, times, dates, names, codes; everything except the enhancement itself. She bit down on her lip – she would have to choose wisely. Maybe she should go back to the lab later, and try to dig up more, but it was probably better to play it safe. She was lucky with what she did get, she shouldn't push for more. Her eyes scanned the list, reading every page over and over. The surgeries were going to be done over a span of three days, and were starting in only two. She gulped, if one of the interns went missing in the middle of the surgeries it could be noticed, she'd have to take the place of one of the first people. That was the only way she may just get away with it.

She frowned – she only had two days. Two days to kidnap and intern, take her place, get an experimental surgery all to keep her identity intact and protect Motorcity and the people of Deluxe.

Two days to keep everything from falling down around her.


	6. Nothing

_Finally back from work and back to school!_

Of Angels To Be

Chapter 6: Nothing

She loved his arms. She loved their color and shape. She loved how his biceps flexed as he worked, veins delicately appearing under his tough skin. There was something magical in their detail and precision. Today, they seemed especially lovely. Whether it be because of the thin sheen of sweat glazing him that made him seem to shine under the fluorescents of Motorcity, or because she so desperately needed the distraction – but they were captivating. She was plenty content in watching him from the bar, even if she was supposed to be in the middle of a card game with Dutch.

"Man, I hate the calm before the storm," he moaned, shuffling the cards through his fingers, "Nothing good ever comes when Kane is this quiet."

She didn't answer, too hypnotized as Mike smoothed another coat of wax over Mutt's hood. She sighed, leaning harder unto her palms, cards trickling from her other hand onto the countertop. She was never one to become totally mesmerized by any one person, even when that one person was someone as completely charming as they come, but, be it because of the lull of activity, today she had broken her usual way of things. She couldn't take her eyes off of him – and when her mind had a moment of clarity she found herself repulsed by her actions. She wasn't fond of how much she seemed like a blushing little school girl around him. Most of the time, she managed to control it, but sometimes it leaked and she ended up watching him giddily, all too much to her dismay.

When it came down to it, with the day being as ridiculously slow as it was, she could easily walk over there and the rest would be history. She could already see he was getting jittery. He was on his third coat of wax. It took all her might to force herself to turn away from him. She wouldn't be able to talk her way out of another one of his plans to save her and she knew that would be all he would be able to talk about if she approached him. So, she kept her distance, no matter how much she didn't want to.

She moved to play her hand only to find Dutch was no longer beside her. She puckered her lips annoyed and looked down at the empty bar stool and the small pile of cards situated where he used to be. She nodded to herself and tossed the cards still in her fingers with the rest of them. She probably should have seen this coming – she wasn't exactly good company when she drifted off. She bit her cheek lightly and pondered running after him. He was the one person who hadn't patronized her on her decision. He said that her decision was hers to make, and whether or not he agreed with it didn't matter because his opinion wasn't going to change hers. If only she could get Mike to think that way, if not to just get him off her back with all his plans and natural tendency to protect everyone and everything. It was nice to have an actual conversation with someone without it spiralling into a lecture or a worrisome heart to heart. She wasn't particularly fond of either.

She could go talk to Chuck. He had already taken Mike's side on the matter, which she knew he would, but he hadn't said much else to her. She threw the thought aside – she loved Chuck, she did, but she knew that talking to him could only take one of two obvious turns. He would either a) begin to interrogate her on The Archangel Project from sheer intellectual curiosity or b) interrogate her on the next time she planned on dragging Claire down to the depths and what he could do to impress her. She didn't really feel like becoming his personal living pamphlet.

Taking to Texas was completely out of the question. That goes without saying. He was about as empathetic and understanding a rabid dog when it came to these kinds of things.

Claire would just force her outlook on her. Again.

Jacob was busy in his garden.

Tooley, even though she was just amusing herself with the thought, was an insufferable imbecile and talking to him had become more of a chore as of late.

The stray thought of talking to her father floated into her mind and she actually laughed at herself for it. It attracted a few eyes, which she ignored easily. It was hard to call Kane "Dad" most of the time. She had foggy memories of what he used to be like – caring, devoted, angry but in control. That was all before Deluxe. His entire demeanour changed the minute he gained actual power in Detroit's senate. That's when his anger took over. Or maybe it was after her mother died that the real switch happened. It was too long ago to remember and she wasn't going to waste time trying to find something about him to cherish. The fact she'd even have to look back to find something was proof enough of his worthlessness. At least, it should have been.

One of her hands ghosted across her back pocket where she had the list hidden away. She didn't have enough time to keep putting off making a choice. She wished, faintly, for a moment that she was Irish, and that luck would be with her when she finally took action. Of course, it was a silly wish, but it calmed her enough to gather her courage. She looked around cautiously. She bit her lip as she slid the papers out from her pocket, a thick square bulge folded in her fingers.

She held it tightly by the longest crease. She needed to be logical about this. Her eyes scanned down the list but she barley recognized the names. A few her father had mentioned for their potential and exceptionality – however, it was rarely more than once and she couldn't recall just what was so special about them in the first place. Of course, the big question would be who would get the more unstable enhancements. It could go either way, and that's what scared her. Would Kane rather risk his best interns for success or let the weak take on the task because of their expendability?

She frowned to herself. She needed to know more, but she couldn't go back to the lab. It wasn't safe – something about going back was leaving her with a wary feeling her in gut. Like it wouldn't be worth it if she tried. She had to be missing something, something right in front of her eyes. It was her only lead; she had to make the best of it.

She unfolded the list, and scanned the names over and over. As far as she could tell she missed nothing. She had already crossed off all the interns who were getting their surgeries later. It felt as if all the numbers and facts burned her eyes but she kept looking, waiting to for the perfect name to arise from the muddle of data.

She groaned, slamming the papers on the bar in frustration. She buried her face in her hands and rocked in them. Taking another breath, and a silent and secret wish for luck, she split her fingers over her eyes. Her hands still blocked all the information, expect for a tiny name imprinted on the paper's top edge. She grabbed the top sheet and stared intently at the signature.

_From the desk of Dr. Murray Green_

Why did that name sound so familiar? She nearly slapped herself when it finally came to her. The doctor; he was the doctor from the second announcement. He was the one everyone was supposed to see – the one she'd insisted she already saw. But there was something else. Someone was yelling in the back of her mind. She didn't recognize them or their voice but as she forced herself to remember it slowly became more lucid. It wasn't very long ago, at least it couldn't have been if she could recall it without much effort.

A nurse. She was in the infirmary with Claire. She was alone in the waiting room, bored. Claire had gone and slipped in her new shoes, she did, after all, insist on a new pair after the others were soiled with Squash Surprise. That's when the nurse came by. She wasn't all that memorable; it was a wonder Julie could remember any of her at all. She wasn't thin, nor was she fat. Her eyes were round and too close together and her nose was long and thin. Her other features were a blur in her mind but her words were forming clearly.

"_I swear, I don't care what Dr. Green says, but he totally has favourites."_

Assuming that her words held some truth, and weren't just that of a scorned student, she could use it to her advantage. When a teacher favours, the students gets everything. They never get picked on for answers; they don't get unnecessary comments or notes home. They get it easy; classroom royalty. If the same principals held, then his favourite intern should, in tern, receive the best enhancement Kane Co. had to offer, safe and useful and possibly even aesthetically appealing. She laughed at herself again. The thought of perhaps looking desirable even with a piece of hardware attached hadn't even crossed her mind before. It seemed like such a silly thing to worry about with possible upending doom on its way and being strapped down right in the middle of it all. Still did.

She smiled softly to herself. She had a plan – well, it really wasn't much of plan but it was something. She needed to find a way to find out the doctors favourite intern. Suddenly, she realized she may actually be able to pull this off. Everything could, no, would work out. It was all so simple really. She'd follow the doctor for a day, she wished she had more time, but a day would be enough. She'd have to remember the names of everyone he interacted with – note, keep a document open on her personal access screen. Then, she'd kidnap the intern as soon as she figured out whom. She frowned briefly; she still had to figure out where to stash them and how to merge them back into Deluxian society without being named as the culprit. She'd cross that bridge when it came. After that, it was all down hill really. A convincing hologram here, a little sneaking around there. She'd been in and out before she knew it. At least, she hoped she would.

She peeked behind her back to where Mike was. She smiled at him lightly. He looked like he was trying to take a nap on Mutt's trunk. The hood was probably too slippery still. His arms were propped behind his head, forming a makeshift pillow. He still wasn't wearing his jacket, and his arms were just as wonderful as they were earlier. It would be so easy just to -

_What happens when something goes wrong?_

She turned away from him without another thought on the matter, face blank and intense, "Nothing is going to go wrong."

It almost scarred her just how much she believed the words she was saying, and feared them at the same time.


	7. Nine To One

Of Angels To Be

Chapter 7: Nine to One

Around Deluxe, there was a wall. It loomed over the city, tall and silent, watching everything. The perimeter. As a child, Julie thought the perimeter was a shield. It protected everyone from the monsters lurking just outside, trying to claw their way in and destroy everything. She knew better now. The gates weren't meant to keep things out, they were meant to hide. They sheltered and cut Deluxe off from the rest of the world, stunting the citizens' thoughts. Her childish fears grew from then on. She still feared monsters but knew they were better at adapting than the ones under her bed. They had no talons or fangs, glowing red eyes or come out from the shadows in her closet. They lived among her. Spilling blood, and stepping on people with mad desires. And she was stuck with them inside an impenetrable cage.

Motorcity was an escape but even they were trapped within the wall. She often wondered if anyone she knew could even recall what was on the other side.

Maybe there really were monsters beyond the blockade. They are everywhere. And they spread like flood. It was sometimes hard to believe good could always win when there was so little good left to fight.

She had hopelessness to her. She had only been to the perimeter once before. She had gotten lost inside her fathers' city. Today, she was not lost in a physical sense but her mind was certainly wandering – desperate and shivering. She didn't know what possessed her to continue past every entrance back home to her boys and world that smelled of motor oil, but a drive inside her forced her to the edge of everything. Helplessly staring at its top, she sat down with crossed legs. Her hands grasped her knees, fisted into the stretchy fabric. She stared at the wall. It looked like the rest of Deluxe, white, sturdy, unbreakable. Down in Motorcity, the artists had spray painted its entirety with pictures and illustrations of everything imaginable. It distracted from the fact it was still a cage and a way to keep everyone under Kane's thumb, even if they were out of reach.

Her plan was a bust. She was doomed. She had followed the doctor all day and it had succumbed to a whopping nothing. He had turned out to be the same doctor that had nearly caught her in the projects lab. He ate hash browns for breakfast and obscene amounts of coffee. He was clearly dependant on the caffeine but that told her nothing about whom to choose. He spoke with nearly fifty interns that day. She took down all their names which lessened the list substantially – maybe the day wasn't a complete loss, but he had no obvious favourites. He treated each of them, no matter their competence, the same, with a friendly, but somehow degrading respect and only talked to them about their thoughts on the Archangel Project for a few moments. She should have guessed the nurse had spoken only with spite.

She thumbed the list as she held it in her lap. She had circled the people who the doctor had talked to that day. Excluding those who wouldn't be having the surgeries on the first day, she was left with 42 people. She had to lessen the list further if she was going to go through with this. She shook her head. She had to lessen the list for _when_ she was going to go through with this. There was no other choice. She knew that.

She tried to clear her mind to solve the problem. 42 people. 42 choices. What did she else did she need to take into account? What did she need to pull this off? Her holograms. Her eyes flickered over the list again and she bit down on her lip realizing she had overlooked something extremely essential. She could make a hologram which could withstand prodding and move as she did, that wasn't the problem. It was the distortion. When they opened her up, they would see her own innards, not the holograms, which meant, ultimately, she would need to take on the form of someone as close to her size and shape as possible.

She went back down the list. She could remember enough about most of the names to determine if they were too fat or too thin and if she wasn't sure she crossed them off for good measure. She was left with 25 names by the end of it. She grins to herself, if only to convince her mind that she was getting somewhere. 25 names weren't so bad. It was a lot less intimidating than 42. The interns' heights were listed on one of the columns by their names. Faster than before, she crossed out anyone who wasn't her height. She wasn't small, but she wasn't all that tall either. It turned out her average height would for once aid her when she realized she was cancelling out more people than keeping them. She quickly counted up every name on the sheets left.

_9_

Nine people were roughly her same weight and shape, and exactly the same height as her. She began to laugh to herself, adrenaline coursing through her. She threw the sheets up in the air like confetti, watching as they floated to the ground around her. She gathered them up in her arms and repeated it. She followed this routine until her arms ached too much to continue, but the blissful feeling remained.

On the back of one of the sheets she took her time and wrote every name out. She read her list over again. One of these nine people had to be it. Tomorrow, she'd grab them on their way to the operating room and then take her place instead.

Tomorrow…

Her stomach suddenly sunk and she became nervous. She tried to combatant the feeling in her gut but it was strong and growing more intense the more she fought it. She wanted to smack herself. She would be fine. Kane's scientists were smart. His doctors knew what they were doing. They'd probably been practicing on cadavers for months. They'd almost be able to do it with their eyes closed. She really preferred they didn't but her point was made. Still, her hands trembled.

She looked up at the wall and glared at it. What if she just ran? The thought surprised her and she nearly cussed at herself for thinking something so cowardly. But… what if? What if she just grabbed Mike and the rest of the Burners? They could get everyone out and free. Beyond the wall Kane had no hold. There would be no more hiding, or running or fighting. Even the Duke would jump in and help out if it was his freedom at stake. Maybe even Kaia and her people too…

It was a charming dream. But she knew it would never become a reality and a flippant and stupid dream it would stay. Freedom often seemed that way.

She nearly jumped when her alarm went off and her personal communication screen opened in front of her. Mike's cubed face and name were centered on the scarlet screen. She gulped; hand frozen over the answer key. It occurred to her she still had told him that her surgery was a lot closer than originally expected. Part of her demanded not to tell him; the surgery was no big deal and she would prove it to him. She smirked half sided to herself. No, she couldn't do that. He deserved as much as she could tell him, or was willing to tell him at least – he always did. For a split moment before she hit the answer button, the need to pour everything out to him rose up her throat.

_Exile! Distrust! No where to go!_

…

_They'd hate you._

…

She pressed the button and his face appeared. Behind him, Texas was kicking at a practice dummy. She smirked a little at his playfulness. Even Mike's expression was a little lighter than it had been of late. She smiled at him whole heartedly. The sight of him was at least enough to banish the dumb thoughts in her mind and turn the twisting in her stomach to butterflies.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey Jules," he answered, a smile coming to his face briefly. It seemed like all they've done as of late was fight and fuck, usually in that order. She missed the moments like this. The genuine ones. No ulterior motives or a need to snap at each other with snide comments or absurd plans, "You're late."

"I got a little sidetracked," she admitted, "I'm on my way."

"You're avoiding me," he told her starkly. His voice was odd, and surprised her. He wasn't angry. He actually almost sounded like he was trying to tempt her. She cocked an eyebrow and smirked at him all knowing. All thoughts of the surgery and the project dissipated. It was amazing what could leave her when all he did was so much as smile. She did really hate how much he turned her into such a stereotypical girl.

"Yeah," she felt her heart well up in her throat for a moment, "but not anymore. I'm on my way; just keep your pants on Romeo."

"No promises."

/

Her fingers mindlessly drew circles around his shoulder. He had a content smirk on his face. He rarely smiled like this. It was more often he had that determined frown everyone saw so much. Her face was nested comfortably in his neck. Her eyes drifted to Mutt's tinted windows, and a flood of temporary relief filled her senses. They were in his front seat, lying on it and it was reclined as far as it could go. Their clothes were strewn across the dashboard and passenger seat. They weren't very good at keeping track of everything once it was off. She snickered quietly to herself when she recalled the few times Chuck had accidentally sat on her intimates when she left them behind.

It was quiet outside, and she knew it would be for a little while longer. Dutch had said it best, "the calm before the storm". She was surprised she could even remember what he had said considering how high in space her mind was.

It was stupid to wish for something to last forever. Everything eventually wears on you, becomes tedious, gets dull. Yet, despite it all, she found herself wishing that she didn't have to leave. He was warm and comforting, dirty, and best of all, he wasn't fighting her at the moment. She was scared the minute she left his car they'd go back to spitting over Kane again. She hated how much he seemed control everything – even their thoughts at times.

"Where were you today," he asked, his hand coming up to gently scrape over a deep purple hickey plainly on her throat. She was so glad the collar on her vest always covered them. A scarf in summer would be a little hard to explain to her father – and he would ask, "It wasn't Kane Co."

"The perimeter," she answered quickly. She felt him move underneath her.

"Why were you at the perimeter?"

"I have no idea."

He laughed and they went silent again. He knew exactly why she was there, even if she wouldn't admit it. She was looking for a way out. It was the same reason he slowed down as he passed it. Her fingertips were dancing on his shoulder again. It tickled a little, but he managed not to move. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to ask, but he had to. He couldn't blame it on curiosity and shove it down. He needed to know.

"When is it?"

"I'm going to assume you're talking about the surgery," she muttered in response bitterly. He frowned to himself. He really didn't want this.

"Yeah."

She took a breath, and prepared herself, "Tomorrow."

She was confused when he didn't freak out. She expected screaming, or yelling. Instead he stayed quiet, breathing heavily. His scowl was back and she huffed. This was so much worse than screaming. Her chest tightened and she wrapped herself around him tighter. She almost swore he would have pushed her off, but instead his arms came around and pinned her in place. She didn't question it and buried herself in him again.

"Tomorrow," he repeated. It sounded like a question but she knew it wasn't. He had heard her right. Her gut twisted painfully again, and her throat felt swollen. She wasn't going to cry. There was nothing to worry about. She shouldn't be scared. She _wasn't_ scared. She blinked as her eye sight began to blur with tears.

She was _terrified_.

She took in a breath and regretfully pushed herself out from his arms. He didn't fight her on it – she wished he did. He watched as she got dressed. She didn't forget anything this time. She wasn't in a hurry. When she was nearly done, he reached and pulled on his boxers. The one time she wanted him to fight her… for her.

She reached over and kissed him hard. He returned, but she could feel the anger behind it. It shocked her. But, of course he was angry. She wanted him to yell and grab her and never let her go. Such simple words could stop it all. Kane is my dad. Kane is _my_ dad. KANE IS MY-

_They'd hate you._

She pulled back and left his car. He didn't say anything else. Why couldn't he? He couldn't he just tell her he'd fix everything and barge in and take her and – run? Why couldn't they all just run? Her eyes flickered to the boys where they were all seated on the bar. Chuck was choking down some pastry like sludge while Jacob smiled proudly. Dutch and Texas were bickering. They caught her with their eyes. She smiled and they reciprocated. Her heart swelled. If only they _could_ just run.

She wished someone would crush her dreams for once instead of her crushing others.

Instead of joining them at the bar, she walked. She passed the garage, Hudson's lab. Her legs tired quickly, but she continued. By the East Gate, by Antonio's. People stared. Since when did a Burner go for walks and not a drive? She ignored them with ease. She'd been doing that a lot lately.

She stopped only when she couldn't walk any longer. The street around her was deserted, and the street lamps flickered above her. The buildings looked as if they would collapse at any moment. She was nearing the East cable cluster. She should turn back. She had no idea how long she'd been walking. It felt like 20 minutes, but it was nearly dark now. It was much longer.

She pulled the list from her pocket and turned the pages over to find her hand written one. The nine names were clear and there. She just had to make the choice. She ripped the paper apart carefully. The pieces without the nine hit the ground and were left forgotten. The wind quickly came up and blew them away.

The nine slips of paper sat cupped in her hands. She gulped and flattened her palm. The winds tickled her skin and the papers went flying. She smiled pitifully. There was one slip left. She closed her hand around it securely. She had her choice.

_3. Myrna Evans_

She closed her wet eyes, letting the crushed paper in her palm fall with the others. Without another thought she turned and left for the long walk home. She needed to get back to Deluxe. Her father was expecting her for dinner tonight. She couldn't be late. She snorted. She was an example.

Myrna Evans. Thin. Small. Five foot four. Kane Co. intern. Enhancement day - Friday Correction.

Juliana Kane. Thin. Scared. Five foot four. Burner and Kane's successor. Enhancement day – tomorrow.

She swallowed the chilled air around her. They'd hate you, y'know. And there's nothing you can do about it, _Kane_. I suggest you remember that.

It was never going to be as simple as those stupid few words, would it?

_No._


	8. Surgery Day

Thanks to everyone for the reviews. Every time I get one I just get ridiculously happy and giddy. I hope you enjoy this nice long chapter. I always love writing longer chapters – they feel better.

Of Angels To Be

Chapter 8: Surgery Day

Mike woke up feeling like he was going to throw up. The moment of blissful ignorance that came with morning fog had disappeared faster than normal and the weight of Motorcity and Julie's impending danger came on fast. His face was calm – he tried to be strong for everyone, but he expected he was much more of a wreck than anyone else. He knew from the shocked faces at the bar, no matter how calm he looked, his nervousness showed.

His clothes looked like they were hanging off of him. His face was pale and the rings under his eyes were a vibrant blue. His joints were stiff as he moved and there was a deep uncomfortable aching in-between his shoulder blades. He looked as if he hadn't slept at all that night, and as could be predicted, he truly hadn't. It was in his nature to protect everyone he could. He'd been known to drive though collapsing buildings and bolt through fires if it meant saving someone. It was like a compulsion. Most of the time his overactive sense of justice served him well, unfortunately there were days like today it just tore him apart.

He couldn't do a thing about protecting her now. She was right. They did need her up in Deluxe. He couldn't just grab his car and grab her from her pod. They could fight off Kane, they could win that fight. It was everything that followed. They didn't have enough money to keep paying for a double agent and keep up with Kane's plans. He doubted a new spy would save their butts without a fee that would blow their pockets open as well. As the facts raked through his brain it didn't give him any relief.

He sat slumped over the bar, shovelling down fresh aloe oatmeal. He managed only a few heaping spoonfuls before the nausea became too much to cope with and pushed the bowl to the side. Jacob gave him a sympathetic look, but he didn't see it. He ran his hand through his hairline anxiously. It stayed up after his hands left it.

"Wow," Texas said, slightly stunned, "You look like shit."

Dutch elbowed Texas hard in the ribs. Mike allowed himself to smirk at the comment. Texas's blind bluntness was a little uplifting.

"Its surgery day," Mike muttered, gripping the fork in his hand tighter.

"We figured," Chuck told him, patting his shoulder, "You shouldn't worry, Mikey. She'll be fine. It's Julie. She'd punch out every doctor in her way if she suspected something was going to go wrong."

"That's the thing, Chuckles," Mike smashed the table with his hand. The cutlery and plates chimed with the vibrations, "She doesn't think anything is going to go wrong."

"And you do," Dutch asked. He nodded.

"Yeah. I feel it."

"Then why didn't you stop her, man?"

"I tried! You're the one who told me not to enforce my feelings on it all on her," Mike turned to him, "You said it wouldn't change anything."

"No! I said I wasn't going to force my opinions on her because it wouldn't change anything. If anyone was going to change her mind it would be you! Man, she is in love with you. You press the right buttons and she'd do it," Dutch had sternness and compassion to his voice that both infuriated and calmed Mike. It felt as if his feelings had been put into a blender and pulverised. So many contradicting thoughts ran through his mind and all over them just frustrated him further.

He huffed, "I guess I don't know the right buttons."

"She'll be fine," Chuck repeated, "when Kane puts his scientists to work, they barely ever make mistakes!"

"Give me a percentage," Mike mumbled.

"I don't know, there's a lot of variables and-"

"Chuck," he begged, "give me a percentage."

Chuck brought up a screen in front of him. His eyes narrowed as he punched number after number into the calculator. Everyone watched him solemnly. No one pushed or prodded. The minutes felt like eternities as they went by, but Mike remained patient.

Chuck sighed when a long decimal came up on the screen, "97.6409 percent. Give or take a few tenths of a degree. Nearly perfect."

"Nearly," he spat.

"Then why don't you do something about it," Texas boomed from behind him. Everyone one turned to look at him bored and tired.

"Huh?"

"Well, obviously you didn't try everything because she's up in Deluxe and you're down here looking like a giver up-er," he accused.

Mike's mouth dropped, "I am not giving up!"

"Oh yeah? What are you doing then?"

"I'm," he stuttered, standing up from the bar, "I'm doing something!"

Everyone, but Texas, watched, jaws dropped, as Mike straightened his jacket and sped off towards Mutt without another word. He was gone in seconds, nearly slamming Mutt's door so hard Dutch swore it should have come off. They all looked to Texas, who was absentmindedly twirling his gun-chucks.

"Tex," Chuck said flabbergasted, "That was, and I can't believe I'm saying this, sort of… genius."

"Yeah, I know," Texas smirked cockily and kicked his legs out into a fighting stance, "Yeah Texas!"

He, then, threw his gun-chucks up in the air dramatically, and ducked as the safety slipped off and bullets flew through Jacob's awning.

/

This was it. Julie sat in the empty waiting room, flipping a magazine through her hands. Most of the staff wasn't in the clinic – surgery day she supposed. They'd need all the scrub-ins and hands they could get. But _she_ was here. And she truly was the perfect choice. She was her exact shape and build. Her skin was dark and her eyes were a dramatic copper, but beyond that she truly was forgettable. Julie smirked. It was all the better.

Her foot tapped her backpack. She had everything she needed. A 3D image scanner, a small hologram projector (one which she could swallow), and she had even managed to swindle some plant leaves from Jacob. They had the most delightful taste of peppermint and chocolate, but had a nasty habit of erasing one's recent memory.

Myrna was talking to a nurse, a male one. Unlike Myrna, he was attractive and she easily recognized him as the same nurse that set her nose after she broke it a few months back. That was certainly a fun one to explain to her father and it did make her pretty paranoid about whether or not her air bags were going to decide to work. She almost felt bad for Myrna, considering what she was about to do and that the poor plain girl was getting no where blatantly flirting with her co-worker. He looked like he was getting bored with her now. All she had to do was wait, and when he finally left, she'd strike.

It took a little longer than she had at first anticipated. It turned out that as bored and possibly disgusted as the more attractive male nurse was, he was also a gentleman and waited until he was called to be prepped before excusing himself. Myrna sighed hopefully after he left and Julie wanted to gag. It would seem this girl was not only bland but had the emotional sense of a toddler. Now she definitely pitied her.

"Hi there, I noticed you've been sitting there for a while," Myrna came up behind her and tapped her shoulder with a sweet smile, "I thought I should tell you that the clinic's closed today. All medical issues should go directly to the hospital, no matter the urgency or lack there of."

Julie took a sharp breath in and her heart began to beat painfully in her chest. This was it. There was no turning back now.

"Is there something you need," Myrna prompted further. Julie's hand ran over her knuckles softly. She knew she could do it. She'd seen Texas do it all the time. She just had to avoid her nose and mouth. It was a last minute decision. She didn't want to risk ruining her face permanently. Part of her really wished that the nurse from earlier would come back and put aside universal beauty to proclaim his ever undying love for her. It would be a lot less likely to happen if Myrna had lost some teeth or gained a badly crooked nose.

"Hello," she asked, shaking Julie's shoulder. She held her breath. Her courage surfaced quickly in her throat.

This was it. This was it. This was_ it_!

She turned, jumping out of her seat, and smashed a dominant fist right between Myrna's eyes. The frail girl stumbled back, her eyes rolling backwards behind her lids and collapsed to the ground all in one smooth move. Julie had never been gladder for someone to be so delicate. She really didn't want to have to beat her senseless to get her unconscious. At least this way she'd have a black eye, maybe two. Nothing too bad – nothing permanent. Her face would be fine and that comforted her.

She quickly went to work, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over one of her shoulders. She crouched before Myrna's head. Her eyes scanned her limp body carefully for broken bones, odd limbs, and any signs of serious trauma. Julie sighed with relief, she looked fine. She took Myrna by her underarms and pulled her behind the nurses' station. She winced. Her dead weight was a lot heavier than she had anticipated. This could make things difficult. She wouldn't be able to hide her in her pod now. It was too far to drag her and it would take too long even if she dared tried.

Julie's eyes grazed over a janitorial closet. She smirked. Perfect. With the clinic closed, no one would really be coming through the halls until after the surgeries were complete. She'd leave her with some food, water, and then when she was done with her identity, she'd tip a low level employee that she was there. The leaves would cover her for the crime, and the few empty bottles of vodka she'd plant in the closet with her would cover the truth that a crime had been committed at all.

She dropped her backpack and pulled out the scanner. At the top, the disposable hologram projector was attached and ready to go. She aimed the scanner at the unconscious nurse's aide.

"Hey Myrna? You still here? I forgot my bag."

She froze – it had to be the nurse from earlier. His footsteps echoed as he came closer and confused her ears. She couldn't drag her to the closet. There wasn't enough time. She had to act fast. She scanned Myrna, eyes glued to the screen while the scanner absorbed her dimensions all too slowly. His voice and footsteps were coming closer. It was all over if she didn't think of something quickly. Motorcity, the Burners, Mike…

"Myrna? Hello?"

The scanner dinged and she pried the hologram chip out from the top. She panicked, jabbing her thumb on the on switch and swallowed it. It went down rough, like it had taken an air pocket with it. She coughed as she felt it seep down her throat; desperately wishing she had packed a water bottle that wasn't spiked with Jacob's amnesia plant.

She managed to push Myrna out of sight just as the attractive nurse from before turned the corner into the waiting room. Julie instinctively jumped over the counter of the desk and leaned back against it, giving him a little wave as a hello. He looked at her, an eyebrow cocked suspiciously, and expression shocked.

"Hey Myrna," he greeted. Relief flooded through her. It worked. She was Myrna. She was plain old forgettable Myrna, and she had just jumped over a desk. She resisted the urge to smack herself for that one. A girl like Myrna would have never done that. She'd have to be more careful.

"You're back soon, uh…," the end of her sentence slurred when she realized she had been referring to him in her mind as "nurse". She dug through her mind urgently. It was only a few months ago he had set her nose. He must have introduced himself, "Uh… Frank?"

He frowned, "its Daniel."

She winced internally; strike two. She couldn't make it to strike three or she'd surly be out, "Uh yeah… I ah, meant that."

"Okay then," he mumbled, his eyes looked at her with peeked interest and she smiled uncomfortably at him. He grinned back confidently. His blues finally strayed from her and she found she could breathe again, but it didn't last long and her breath hitched in her throat when she realized his eyes were deadlocked on a leather satchel – atop the filing cabinet inside the nurses' station, "I'll just get my bag."

"No," she yelped. She jumped and blocked him from walking. His brows furrowed, knitted tightly together at her. She smiled at him again, but this time he didn't return it, "Just, let me get it for you!"

"I am perfectly capable of retrieving my own bag."

"But I'm closer," Julie frantically insisted. From the corner of her eye she could see Myrna's white flats. He was moving forward, despite her blocking him. She couldn't let him see her. He needed him to be distracted, just for a moment, just long enough so as she could grab his bag off the cabinet without him taking as much as another step. And there was surely nothing more distracting than-

"SEX," she wailed. He stopped, his lips curling up in confusion. Julie didn't hesitate, she turned, bolted across the nurses' station, snatched the satchel and practically threw it at him, "I mean – uh… sexy bag. That's a pretty sexy bag you got there, uh, Daniel."

He did a double take between the woman he thought was Myrna and the satchel she had just pushed into his hands, "Uh, thanks."

"It's no problem," Julie told him sweetly, "I just love helping people."

"Yeah, I know," his eyes cast down for a moment and Julie smirked, "I should probably get going. Dr. Green's probably getting a little impatient. Myrna?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something," he mumbled. His confident tone had all but vanished in a simple moment.

"Sure," she answered.

"Are you scared?"

The words hit her like a bullet and before she could even think of what Myrna would do words were leaving her mouth without control, "No."

"Why not?"

"Because there's nothing to be afraid of," she said. _Liar_.

"Sure there is," he shrugged with melancholy. She watched as his eyes continued to search the pristine floor, "Something could go wrong."

She scoffed, but knots had returned to her stomach. She frowned sharply. She was sure she had gotten rid of them for good, "Nothing is going to go wrong."

_Maybe if you keep saying that, you'll actually start to believe it._

"How can you be so sure," he asked with disbelief. Julie smiled at him softly.

"I don't know. If you're really that scared would you like me to hold your hand," she giggled uncomfortably. She had meant it to be a joke but her voice had wavered and it had turned into an actual request.

"No," he shot back. His confidence returned, or was it more of a snide courage? She supposed it didn't matter. Maybe now he would actually leave so she could finally finish it all, "But, if you were starting to get nervous than what kind of a man would I be if I didn't hold yours."

"A pretty shit one," she mused.

He broke out with a bellowing laughter and for a moment its normality set her at ease, "I haven't heard you make a joke in a long time."

Suddenly, a voice spoke up over the intercom and the words rocked inside her ears, "Would Daniel Banks and Myrna Evans please make their way to the 57th floor to be prepped. Thank you."

He turned to her wordlessly and offered his hand. Julie bit her tongue to stop herself from instinctively taking it. She couldn't go prancing hand in hand with him down to surgery – at least not yet.

"I'll catch up with you," she insisted. He seemed disappointed and shoved his hands into his pockets to compensate. She had to hold her self back from beaming. It was so obvious now. Standing in front of him, what had seemed like boredom and a gentlemanly politeness was really utter infatuation forced into submission. It surprised her it took this long for her to notice, "I just have to get my stuff together."

"I'll help you."

"No. Dr. Green is so impatient, just get going. I'll catch up. I promise," she pushed him lightly to get him going. He walked, turning back several times to see if she was coming, "Just go! I'll be there soon."

This time he did continue on without fighting her. As his footsteps became increasingly quitter, her heart began to race behind her breast. She waited until she could no longer hear him before she dared move. She turned and saw Myrna's flats. Her fingertips went numb and she trotted over to her body, making sure to grab her backpack and sling it over her shoulders. Shivers ran savagely up her arms and sides as she grabbed her tiny wrists and pulled her across the room.

She dropped her outside the closet and pulled it open. She took her again and pulled her the final small distance into her holding cell for the next few days. She propped her up against one of the corners – the one least crowed with buckets and cleaning supplies. Prying her bag off her back, she let it fall to the ground and unloaded it with precision. She left a pile of imperishable snacks and foods on one of the shelves so it would look like a janitor's secret stash. The spiked water bottles stood beside it; huddle together in form. She took a sharp breath in and fished a plastic baggy with the remaining amnesia leaves. She took one from the bag and rolled in her hands until it wilted. She got on her knees before Myrna and gently opened her mouth. It took more force than she wished. It almost made her feel dead, but her rising and falling chest luckily told her otherwise. With care, she placed the weeping leaf on her tongue and closed her mouth.

Once again, she slung her bag over her back and without so much as another glance; she left the closet and locked Myrna inside. Her innards seemed to stop and begin to burn. Her hands shook on the doorknob and she could feel her pulse beating in her neck, leaving her with a constant ache. It was time to go.

/

It wasn't until Mike had sped through the East Gate and rammed his breaks on Deluxe's white streets that he realized he had no idea where he was going. He had come up through a flaw in the system that had only recently appeared – a hole in the foundation of the building over the gate. He could drive right through even with the buildings docked.

He slammed a fist against the rim of Mutt's wheel, crying out in primal frustration. He couldn't just aimlessly drive around the streets and he couldn't trust his old knowledge of Deluxe's layout. If there was one thing he could count on Kane for, it was that Deluxe was ever moving forward. In his first year as a junior cadet he was forced to move nearly a dozen times as Kane kept changing his mind on the most efficient housing locations. He doubted much was the same since he'd left.

He pulled up a communication screen and punched in Chuck's number quickly. The blond answered nearly immediately. There was no moment of hesitation between the two of them.

"What is it, Mikey?"

"I need Julie's location," he said starkly. Chucks' cube nodded.

"Just give me a second to lock onto her signal," he answered. Mike could hear the faint sound of his fingers hitting keys and buttons responding. Still, the wait had his knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip on the wheel and when he went to move his jaw, it hurt him from the pressure.

"She's moving but its looks like she's stationed inside a building," Chuck answered, "It's just ahead of you, 500 meters."

"Thanks Chuckles."

His foot slammed on the gas and Mutt sped up in a flash of a moment. His eyes bolted opened from his concentrated scowl when the buildings rose from their docks. It was too early for them to rise. Something was happening. Something was wrong. He couldn't enter any of the buildings unless they were docked, or if he was going to go in guns blazing and break a few windows. The latter wasn't preferred. He needed to stay under the radar if he was going to get anywhere near her.

Suddenly, the wind was knocked out of him as he was thrown forward into the wheel. Mutt spun, a dark trail of rubber marking her path. He came up sputtering heavy coughs and the metallic taste of blood fresh on his tongue. He wiped at the cut on his mouth, it stung, but it didn't faze him. He threw his head to the side, and gritted his teeth when the clouds of exhaust parted and Red sat reclined against his car. He could feel his smirk cutting him even behind his helmet. His eyes cast back to the risen buildings. He should have floored it. He should have ignored him and left him in the dust.

But he didn't.

He kicked Mutt's door open and charged out. His staff enlarged from the skull tightly gripped in his hand. Red ducked quickly when Mike whipped his staff's end at his head. As his arms reached the end of their arc, Red landed a hard punch to his gut. Mike stumbled back. His lip was bleeding more from the strain and pooling in the well of his mouth. He ran forward and slammed his staff against Red's leg, toppling him to the ground. Mike jumped, holding his shoulders down against the floor.

Red chuckled sourly, "Kane said you'd show up today, but I never thought you'd be so angry. What happened? Loose your favourite bumper sticker?"

"Dock the buildings," he hissed, "Now."

"Do you really think I can do that," Red mocked him, "Do you get stupid when you're this angry? Or is there another reason?"

He thrust his knee up into Mike's hip, narrowly missing his groin. Mike flipped onto his back from the force. The shock of pain in his hip subsided quickly, and he went to grab for his staff, only to find it was no longer near him but had slide under Mutt's front tire way out of arm length. He couldn't spend anymore time on it, and jumped to his feet. Red tried to hit him in the stomach again, but Mike blocked it and smashed a fist into the temple of his helmet. Red was flung off his feet and fell into floor hard. He moaned quietly, but Mike's ear caught it with ease.

Red laughed hoarsely again, "I wonder what exactly could make the great Chilton lose his cool?"

Mike's gut flared with liquid rage and he slammed his leg into Red's side. He collapsed, but continued to laugh nevertheless. Mike's chest tightened with confusion and he kicked him again. His laugh was stifled, and he chocked on his breath, but it came back louder than before. He was toying with him.

"You're still a teenager, Chilton," he spurted, "a child!"

He struggled to get off the ground. Mike stood before him, ready. If he dared move, he'd get him. He had him.

"It's a girl, isn't it," Red mused dourly, "It's always a girl. But then why are you up here? Is she up here? Are you here to rushing in a be her knight in shining armour-"

Red was stopped mid sentence when Mike connected his fist with the weak armour of his throat. Red stumbled back, falling back to the ground on his back. He was thrown into a muddle of gasps as he tried to breathe. Mike quickly got the jump on him, and held him in place with his foot on his chest. His chest-plate blocked him from suffocation, but Red was pinned. He growled viciously. The laughter had dissipated and Red's fun was done. Or so he hoped.

"Dock the buildings," Mike demanded.

Red snorted, "Are you deaf too? I can't do it! Face it, you're stuck here and that little girl of yours is too. I can understand why you're angry, but you missed a vital key to your plan because of it. Anger makes you sloppy!"

Red struck Mike's ankle with a hard punch. He lip down on his split lip to keep from screaming as he stumbled back. He couldn't let Red get the upper hand – he had to go for it now. He bolted, ducking and running into a slide, Red's foot narrowly missing his head. He relished in the feeling of metal in his grasp, even if the splitting pain that shot through his knuckles was nearing the unbearable. Red was keeping his distance, but his eyes never left him.

Abruptly, Chuck's face appeared on a communication window beside his head. He didn't turn to look at him, but acknowledged him with a hand. Turning away from Red, even for a split second would be a mistake.

"Mike," Chuck wailed, shock dripping off his tongue, "What happened?"

"Ran into an old friend," he spat, glaring at the man clad in armour, "What do you got?"

"I pinpointed Ju-"

"Don't say her name," he interjected, noting as Red's head tilted in wonder. They couldn't take that chance. Not right now.

"Right," Chuck answered, "She's on the move, Mikey! We don't have a lot of time!"

Mike gritted his teeth, "Can you call your girlfriend?"

Chuck yelped, but before he could on a sputter about how Claire was not his girlfriend, his words became clear, "I can try."

"Good. And Chuck?"

"Yeah?"

"Hurry."

"Yeah," he nodded obediently, "Just hold on and don't die!"

The screen dissipated, and Red charged. Mike smirked to himself absentmindedly as his grip on his staff tightened, "No problem."

/

Julie could feel as David's clammy hand began to shake within her grasp. She tried to smile at him, but it was meek. The hallway seemed to go one forever. There was no light at the end of this tunnel.

They walked in time. She had to walk slower than was comfortable for him. He was visibly clambering and chewing on his bottom lip anxiously.

Her heart was beating so hard in her chest it hurt, but she had always had a great poker face. He wasn't the wiser. Maybe a girl like Myrna would be scared. Maybe she should be clinging to his arm and crying because it seemed like the end was coming. She scoffed at herself. She may no longer have been Julie but she was not about to throw herself all over him. She had limits. Seducing Tooley was as close to that line as she ever wanted to near, and she still felt pangs of guilt deep within her belly from that night. Besides, she doubted she could get away with it if she tried with Daniel. He was certainly no idiot.

"What if they knick an artery," he mumbled, voice waving.

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to let his words get to her, "They're not."

"What if they give me a tainted blood transfusion?"

"They're not," she insisted again. This conversation had already grown tiresome.

"What if they turn me into a freak," he stuttered.

She looked to him with sympathy, "You don't know what their going to do?"

"No," he was quick to answer her, "Do you?"

She shook her head, "No."

"Oh."

The words hit her like a freight train. Her body flushed over with a wave of white tingles before it all fell numb. She wanted to speak, but her voice was gone. Her mouth felt as if someone had stuffed cotton into it. She couldn't breathe. Her chest was burning. There was no air. It was gone. Her pulse was throbbing in her neck.

"Myrna?"

She didn't respond. Who was Myrna? She shouldn't be here. She was a Burner. She wasn't an intern. She shouldn't fucking be here goddamn it! She gasped for air and her chest felt heavy. She felt as though she were suffocating, literally drowning in pressure. Daniel grabbed at her upper arms and forced her to look at him. In the reflection of his glasses, she could see Myrna. The reflection felt wrong. She wasn't Myrna. Myrna was locked in a closet, knocked out.

"Myrna! Myrna, look at me!"

Her breath was released in an intense sob, "I can't do it."

"Myrna!"

"I can't," she screamed. She refused to let the tears forming in her eyes emerge. She had already cried once over this, and it was one time too many. Her face stung and her gut was twisting in her stomach. She whimpered, it felt as if her lungs had been torn in half. It hurt, everything was on fire and she was burning from the inside out, "I have to go! I can't!"

"Myrna," he cried out and finally looked to him, "You don't have a choice."

_It's true, you don't._

"Nothing is going to go wrong," he continued as soothingly as he could. She could still hear his voice quivering, "I promise."

"Liar," she spat, "I know you don't mean that!"

"Apparently you didn't either," he countered. He let go of her arms and grabbed her hand again, guiding her further down the hall. She inwardly gasped as their final destination came into view. The double doors were ominous and towered over the both of them. She felt her heart drop, and he gripped her hand so tightly she lost all feeling in her fingers. It wasn't worth. It couldn't be worth it. Just admit it, just say it! Goddamn it, _JUST SAY IT!_

He pushed opened the doors and she followed.

/

Chuck's fingers worked with speed and precision. They looked like a blur, but most were too focused on the documents appearing before their eyes to notice. Although, Texas had already taken the time to ask just where Chuck's fingers had gone. No one paid him any mind. Chuck's eyes shone with determination. If it weren't for the direness of the situation, he knew he'd be smiling. It had been a long time since he'd tried something so challenging. A side screen appeared by his face and he typed in Claire's effort without much trouble. No one bothered to pester him on why he had it memorized, or how he knew it in the first place. Claire answered quickly.

Her expression turned fast from interest to confusion, "Chuck? Um… Hi?"

"Hi Claire," he stuttered out, flustered for a moment before everything came stampeding back to him. His mouth flat lined. It was very hard to keep a clear head around her, "Listen, we really need your help."

"Why," she asked suspiciously.

"Mike," he explained speedily, but Claire caught his every word with distaste and fright, "He went up to Deluxe to get Julie. He's in trouble!"

"He is _where_," she shrieked. She felt like smacking her face but refrained. Giving herself a bruise over her best friends' boyfriend wasn't worth it.

"I'm sending you the coordinates now," Chuck scrambled over his words but his fingers worked their magic and she received them almost immediately, "Just get there, pick him up, and don't get hurt!"

"What the hell did he get into?"

"He's in a fight and it looks like he's hurt pretty bad. Just be careful."

Claire huffed, "It's not as if I had a choice. Julie would kill me for not helping you guys."

"I owe you one," he told her kindly. She smiled.

"How about you buy me dinner and we'll call it even."

She ended the call and her screen closed. Chuck was left flabbergasted for a few moments. Has she just – No she couldn't have. But she clearly had just said… focus! He needed to focus. He could be bewildered by Claire later.

He turned his attention back to the main screen. Blue prints and maps flood the page in front of him. His tongue poked out from the side of his mouth as he worked matching everything together. Julie's location beeped on the screen, floating through the maps. He ran his finger under it to keep track of her.

Then his face dropped, and everyone looked to him with wide eyes and worry.

"Shit."

/

Mike was shoved to the ground by a punch that landed hard on his cheek. Red had begun laughing again. He was growing tired of this cliché villain masquerade. He stumbled back to his feet. Red whistled, amused.

"You just don't know when to stop, do you, Chilton?"

"I do," Mike insisted, taking a moment to spit bloody saliva to the floor, "It just isn't now."

He knew he needed to immobilize him. Chuck would come through – he always did. He couldn't risk putting Claire in more danger than they were already asking her to. He had no doubt that Red would feel no remorse if he pulverised a person as fragile as Claire. Not to mention Julie and Chuck would hold it against him for longer than he cared to admit.

His eyes scanned his armour. There had to be miscalculations in the parts. The area on his neck was just fabric, but he already knew that and pinning his neck may just kill him. His jaw tensed. He didn't want to kill anybody – not even those who may deserve it. His eyes narrowed with frustration. What he wouldn't give to have Chuck relay a list of percentages to him right about now.

"I really don't give a shit about your friends or your little girlfriend, you know," Red chuckled, and cracked his knuckles under each hand, "The only reason I'm here-"

"Is because you want me dead," he interrupted, "Yeah, I know."

What he assumed was Claire's pod made a sharp turn into open air from behind one of the buildings near. Mike glowered. If he was going to do something he had to do it now. His eyes caught hold of a small loop on the side of his hip. Mike smiled.

Perfect.

He tried to back up as unnoticed as possible. Red began advancing on him as his backside hit Mutt's passenger door. He needed to work fast.

"Running away Chilton? That's heroic."

"I'm not trying to be a hero," he muttered cruelly. Red didn't hear him, but kept walking towards him, slowly and with the confidence of a man who had already assumed he had won it all. Mike may have been angry, but Red was cocky – and that would be his downfall.

In one smooth motion, Mike ripped open the door and dove for the cabinet in the dash. It popped open easily, and his fingers wrapped themselves around a long screwdriver. He smirked. Thank God for Dutch. He hid his tools everywhere. He stepped out from the car, making sure to keep the tool hidden up his jacket sleeve. Red was still moving, tauntingly. Mike kept his face blank. _Closer, closer, closer_…

Red jumped at him. Mike stooped out of the way, and the screwdriver slid down into his palm with ease. He ducked around the Red's back and threw him to the ground, pouncing after him to keep him down. Red withered and clawed at the ground, screaming like a captured animal.

Mike gripped the handle of the screwdriver, and slammed it through the loop on Red's hip, successfully puncturing the street beneath them. Red struggled, trying to pull himself up, but was kept in place. He was trapped.

He turned back to Mutt without another word. He knew he was going to regret leaving him there, but it didn't matter. He had been stalled enough. Claire's pod landed in time with him as he sat back into the driver seat. The door to her pod opened and she glared at him through his tinted windshield.

"Oh no," she wailed, "No! You are not destroying my pod again!"

"We don't have time to argue," He yelled. She looked taken back, but then again she probably should be. It had been a long time since he'd lost enough control to find himself yelling at anyone.

She nodded, and stepped out her door, making sure to keep herself hidden from the screaming man pinned to the ground. Mike carefully drove Mutt into the room. His focus was intensified so the point where he was blinded to all else. Claire closed the door behind them, and struggled her way through her pod to get to him. He managed to squeeze out through the few inches Mutt's door.

She gasped as her eyes caught hold of him, "Damn, that guy got you good!"

"You should see the other guy," he muttered, a tad of charm making it's way back into his voice.

"I did," she huffed putting her hands on her hips, "And he didn't have his mouth cut wide open and a bruise across his cheek."

"Home field advantage," Mike spat, "C'mon we got to go."

Claire bit her lip. While Julie coming clean was near the top of her agenda, hurting her was not. She sighed. She had two choices, help Mike and rescue Julie; ultimately throwing her father into a fit of rage that the Burners' would dare steal his daughter and put Julie on the spot about her heritage. Or stall him like Julie would want and let her go through with some experimental surgery just to save her a painful, but small, explanation. Her eyes drifted to Mike who was still trying to coax her into going as fast as possible. She was so sick of this.

She pursed her lips, "Alright, let's do this."

/

Julie stood in the corner of the dressing room. The other women were keeping to themselves as they changed and she wished to do the same. She felt repulsive, like she was violating Myrna as a person. She kept her eyes screwed tight as she stripped, throwing her clothes into a neat pile by her feet. She pulled the surgical gown over head. Her body shivered. The room was freezing and goose bumps littered her arms. Still, she was glad to be covered, even if it was only a thin sheet that barely resembled clothing.

She left the room as soon as she had the knots tied properly and was sure they wouldn't undo. She entered a thin hallway. Her feet tingled with the cold that was attacking their bottoms. She forced herself to walk. There was a group of nurses and doctors huddled together at the end near. They were laughing and the sickening sound hit her hard in the gut. She wondered for a moment if Daniel was doing any better than she was. She frowned, probably not.

One of the doctors, he held a large clipboard filled to its brim with paper, acknowledged her with a small one over. She felt exposed under his gaze. She'd recognize that kind of look anywhere. It was the same one she often saw at her father's stupid gala. He was ogling her. She sneered, disgusting bastard. If only she could strike him.

He kept his eyes on her as she approached. He was frail, like a twig and he could probably break just as easily. He was also young. He couldn't be much older than her, but his face looked wrinkled and tired. It worried her.

"Name," he asked sternly when she was within earshot.

It took her a moment to remember, and the pause did not go unnoticed but was left alone as nerves, "Myrna. Myrna Evans."

His eyes finally tore from her chest and she felt a small wave of relief flood her. He flipped through the first few pages and used his finger to follow the words often. It reminded her of a six year old just learning to read. She pitied him for a moment. Suddenly, he smiled. It was dirty and grotesque.

"You're with me today, Miss," he said. Julie shuddered uncomfortably. Great, her doctor was a pervert.

She held her tongue from lashing out at him with profanities and instead kept calm as she spoke, "Okay."

A nurse came up beside her with a paper cup with a few assorted pills. The nurse smiled kindly and placed it in her nervous fingers. Julie thanked her silently. Her voice had left her.

"Any allergies to medications," the doctor asked her, and his eyes returned to her breasts and trembling legs.

"No," she replied quickly. He nodded satisfied to himself.

"Then follow me," he instructed, her hesitation showing, "You can take those pills when we reach the OR. Don't be so frightened, dove. I'm a professional."

Julie glowered at him. She knew he wasn't attracted to her in the least, and that made his words and looks all the worse. She was Myrna. Myrna was plain and forgettable. The doctor spoke sweetly, but she could sense the desperation in his voice with ease. He was just looking for a good romp in the sack wherever he could get it.

Now she really wanted to smack him.

A nurse took her clothing from her and promised their safety whole heartedly. She was forced through the door they had congregated beside when the doctor pushed her by the small of her back. She didn't even have a chance to protest. He led her through a labyrinth of turns. She tried to keep track for her own peace of mind, but lost it after they're seventh turn.

They came to a final door. The windows were large and blue tinted, but she could see clearly through them. She felt like she was about to enter a horror movie, and beyond those doors was her end. She wasn't sure if she was grateful or possibly more frightened by the fact she knew what was coming. She wished she were oblivious.

His hand on her back tried to urge her forward. She saw people in scrubs and masks pacing the room. A few looked to her impatiently, eyes boring through her. Her breath hitched in her throat and she stumbled backwards. The doctor caught her by the backs of her arms.

"Come now Miss Evans. We have a schedule to keep."

"I can't do it," she chocked out. He scoffed at her edgily, "I can't. I have to go!"

"You're not going anywhere, Miss Evans," he dug his nails into her arms as he tried to restrain her, "You have a job to do!"

He pulled her up and over her shoulder. She screamed, thrashing as hard as she could. She had underestimated his strength, and he held on tight. She was scared, no she was fucking terrified.

Mike was right. What if something went wrong? Something is going to go wrong. Now she can feel it too. It bubbles in her stomach and she tries to break free from his grasp. She no longer cared just how exposed she was and she kicked and flailed. She wanted to get out, she _needed_ to get out!

_THEY'D HATE YOU!_

/

Mike sat anxiously on Mutt's hood as Claire controlled her pod. The relative time it took for her to reach the hospital was miniscule, but every second was excruciating. His adrenaline high was starting to fade and he could feel every part of his body cascade into pain. His lip was still bleeding into his mouth and the slice was pulsing. His knuckles were split and white capped and the rest of his body was covered in a variety of bruises and sore tendons.

A lesser man would have been on his knees crying. But Mike stayed focused. He had to, for her sake. He knew she was going to resist him. He'd have to take her kicking and screaming. He tensed. He was never going to let anybody get hurt on his account, and he certainly wasn't going to let Julie compromise herself for the team. Their safety came first. He'd rather die than let anyone of his friends run into battle unprepared. And she was running blindly.

"We're almost there," Claire announced hurriedly, "I just need to find a place to dock my pod in the building."

A communication screen popped up beside his head. He was relieved by Chuck's face on the screen.

"Chuckles, thank goodness," he said. Chuck's grim face went by without notice, "Claire came just in time. Listen, I need you to lead me through the hospital. I remember how expansive it is-"

"Mike, listen-"

"We have to find Julie as soon as possible. She's going to throw a fit about it so we have to have a quick escape route-"

"Mike!"

"There's going to be soldiers everywhere at least. I need you to at least try to disable the defence grid-"

"Mike," Chuck wailed. His head dipped down and Mike finally noticed the wrinkles near his mouth. His throat swelled at the sight.

"What," he asked, "What's wrong?"

Chuck sucked in a sharp breath and spoke unnervingly, "I pulled up blueprints and maps of Deluxe and matched them up with Julie's tracking beacon. And-"

"Chuck, get on with it," he demanded. Chuck's gaze dropped again.

"We're too late."

/

The world around was foggy. There were lights – they were too bright, they burned her eyes. People moved around her in a hurry. They were carrying sharp things with them and passing them around and over her. She giggled. They spoke to one another about it. She laughed more.

She was having trouble seeing but that didn't matter. She was warm. An outburst of calm pins and needles had focused in on her chest and gut. It tickled. Usually she didn't like being tickled. It was uncomfortable and stupid, but now – no, it was fine. She enjoyed it. It was almost… gratifying.

"Hello, Miss Evans," a voice greeted. She couldn't tell where it came from but it was calming.

"Who's… that," she muttered giddily, "My name isn't 'Miss'!"

"Those new anaesthetics certainly take effect fast," another voice marvelled. She snorted with and laughed harder. They sounded so funny, like a cartoon character. It was ridiculous. A blur looked over at her.

"Miss Evans-"

"I told you," Julie spurted happily, "My name is not 'Miss'!"

"Then what is your name," the first voice asked her amused.

"Mmm…," her giggles died down and she tried to make out the nearest blob of a blurry person, "Julie!"

"Oh is it?"

"Yup! Julie, Julie, Juliana!"

"Well, _Julie_," he said. She lifted her head in response, and beamed. Everyone seemed to enjoy that. She liked making people happy, "Can you count backwards from ten for me?"

Something poked her arm. She winced; it felt like a bug had bit her in her wrist. She nodded at them. The numbers formed in her mind, she could see them even if they were blurry, but she couldn't seem to make her mouth form the right shape.

"T- ten…"

The colours around her were starting to dissipate. Her tongue felt swollen in her mouth and the people around her pass sharp things over her again. A hot liquid entered through her bite and spread up her arm and through her chest.

"Nin… nine."

The liquid heat was spreading. She could feel it in her toes, and her cheeks were beginning to tingle. She wanted to laugh, but suddenly she could fathom how to make the sound. She swallowed a mouth full of spit because she was afraid she would drown.

"Eigh… Eigh… Ei… Mmm…"

Her mouth stopped making comprehendible sense and it confused her. She started to finish counting in her head. It was a lot easier. She smiled distantly. Her eyelids were becoming very heavy. She couldn't recall them gaining any weight recently. Should she have been watching her figure? Mike always told her how small she was… Mike? Why did that name sound so familiar?

Her eyes finally closed. The voices around her were starting to die down. Why were they leaving? Did they not like her anymore? That would be silly. Finally, they disappeared all together and the lights above her went with them. She was drifting, drifting through the dark. She felt like she was smiling. She liked the dark. It was peaceful.

She felt free.


	9. In Post

I have to say I'm so excited to write this after the response from the last chapter. I knew, as it was pretty much a climax, that it would get some attention, but five reviews within twenty four hours. My heart legit soured!

I'm also happy to announce that I'm playing around with a few other Motorcity fic ideas in my head that will hopefully surface after this one's done. I'll keep you guys posted. As a Mike/Julie supporter, I really think we can all appreciate all the fics we can get. The number is surprisingly few. It saddens me (wink, wink, nudge, nudge), if you catch my drift.

Of Angels To Be

Chapter 9: In Post

The light burned behind her eyelids. Her breath was lost when the smell hit her – rubbing alcohol, window cleaner, and the putrid smell of the deathly ill. The world was spinning in her dark so much so it hurt. Still, she kept her eyes screwed shut. Opening them would make everything real. She shouldn't be here, she couldn't be here. No, she wasn't here.

There was no light hurting her. All she could see were the fluorescents and the dim streaks that littered the skies. Not much light could pass through Deluxe, so what did was erratic. She smelled dirt and the odd whiff of gasoline. Unpleasant, that she would admit, but homey. There were no scratchy bed sheets, no side stepping outside her door, no awkward conversations slipping into her room. Just leather. Car horns. Laughing.

She chuckled pitifully at herself – what was she? Four? Making pretend as if it would actually change all around her. She snorted and winced as the odour of rot and disinfectant slipped into her dream. Her eyes flashed open and darted from corner to corner with discomfort.

She hated hospitals. She hated them so much.

She'd seen too many people die in hospital beds. Doctors seemed so over-glorified and useless. They sauntered in, threw out a diagnosis and left it to their underlings. Horror stories of angels of mercy spiking IV's with adrenaline or some other untraceable liquid death left her shaking. She chewed her bottom lip until it bled. It was never the surgery she was afraid of – that hadn't been a complete lie. It was the location, the hospital. The men with knives, the women with needles, and her life in their possibly incompetent hands. She hated uncertainty – and hospitals left her reeking of it.

_And a faceless woman, ever bleeding…_

She clutched at the cheap sheets below her as she tried to move. A white pain shot through her like lightning, climbing up her spine. Her body stiffened, and she fell to her side, whimpering. Her eyes stung with tears, but she hadn't the strength to stop them this time. Her fingernails tore through the sheets as she clung to them. Her back was hot with the steady ache that was borderline unbearable. She was clammy with a cold sweat and she felt like someone had left her body on vibrate. She couldn't stop shaking.

The beeping of the assortment of machines around her began to pound in her ears. Her eyes naturally followed their lines, her stomach beginning to turn to knots as she realized they all eventually led to her. She wished nothing more than to rip every tube and cord out from her hands. Her heart was slamming, pushing desperately, behind her breast. It was becoming hard to breathe.

She head whipped to the sound of a door opening and slamming shut. Footsteps entered her white prison and her hold on the torn sheets intensified. She couldn't tell how many people there were. Everything else was too loud – the machines, her pulse. Why couldn't they shut up? She couldn't focus. She needed to focus!

She let out a strangled cry as she tried to move again. Another bolt of burning pain laid waste to her back. It was eating her alive. The curtain was pulled back, revealing a familiarly frail man whose face was covered by a clipboard. His finger tapped it impatiently as he went over her charts.

_A doctor only showed up when you were going into cardiac arrest or dying…_

His hand flailed with snaps above her his head and a nurse scurried in from the hallway with haste. She approached her bedside and froze. Julie's eyes widened and her gaze dove to her hands. They were pale and white again, nothing like the sunburned caramel of Myrna's skin. Her breath hitched in her throat and suffocated her. She was numb, all except for the shooting pain burning through her back, she could feel nothing.

Something went wrong. Her hologram failed, but when? Right in the middle of surgery? She looked back to the doctor and recognized how calm he was. No – she had made it through. He hadn't even noticed. But that still didn't settle her nerves on his presence. Even if something hadn't gone wrong with her hologram, something must have with gone wrong with the surgery. There was no question; she wasn't going into cardiac arrest. She was dying.

She collapsed into the cot and buried her face in her arms. It was too painful to straighten out to reach the pillow – but that didn't matter. It was over, everything was just over.

"Alright," The doctor spoke as if he was bored and Julie immediately recognized the tone. It was the same flamboyantly perverted man from before, "The surgery went splendidly. I'll write you a script for some pain killers, and it will take a little while until you'll be able to perform normal work again. I'll have the nurse assist you in changing, and then you can go back to your pod for a few days bed rest. No picking at your enhancement or using them until you're fully healed. Understood?"

Julie's head rose from her arms and she answered with a raw throat, "Yes."

He left without opening his mouth again. He hadn't even dropped the clipboard far enough to notice something was wrong. The nurse hadn't spoken up either. She supposed he was intimidating or maybe the nurse was delicate minded. This could work to her advantage if she played her cards right.

The nurse moved cautiously. She tugged Julie up into a sitting position, ignoring her sobs and pained protests. She kept her moving, dressing her in her clothes, and disregarding her pleading eyes. The pain in her back rocked her. Lights were flashing in front of her eyes, blinding her. She shoved her legs through her pants, before the nurse even glanced at her for more than a brief moment.

Finally, she spoke softly and with fright, "What are you doing here?"

"It's complicated," she snapped at her. The nurses' head fell, red and flushed with shame. Shame for what Julie couldn't pinpoint and she soon realized she didn't care.

The nurse looked back to her and whispered, "Miss Kane."

Julie nodded at her. The nurse helped her pull her shirt over her head, still ignoring the yelps of pain exiting her mouth. The inner flesh of her cheek was bloody and beginning to blister. She hissed and realized she had been chewing it to keep from screaming any louder. The nurse looked at her, and she caught sight of the slight smirk on her mouth. Her eyes narrowed – an ex-fairy tale princess out for revenge like all the rest.

Without hesitation, the nurse grabbed her wrists and tugged her off the bed. Julie stumbled forward, her knees weak. She buckled and grabbed the nurses' arm to keep falling. The pain pooled in her shoulders. It struck her with every move, lashing out from her back to every part of her being with its hot claws. She looked back to the nurse. The smirk was still there. She couldn't blame her for it.

"Should I call someone for you," she asked. She was so falsely sweet. It was always rather amusing to watch how someone changed when they took over. The addicting taste of power, and it must have been strong in her mouth. Julie had seen this change in people too many times not to laugh at it. The nurse raised an eyebrow at her and waited impatiently for Julie's pained chuckles to subside.

"I'll call her," she mumbled, limping as the nurse hoisted her arm over her shoulder and began to drag her out into the hall. People's eyes immediately locked onto her, shock and worry plastered on their faces. Her heart naturally dropped as they continued. She grabbed the nurse's collar and pulled her ear down close enough to speak, "I was drunk last night. I slept over because I was so out of it I fell down some stairs."

The nurse's eyes widened as her power was snatched away for an instant. Julie snickered to herself again pitifully. The nurse nodded and continued to walk her down the hall.

Her chest felt compressed. It was a struggle to breathe and she realized soon that she was quite obviously gasping for the air around her. The nurse paid no mind to it. Julie grimaced at her through the corner of her eyes.

Her hand rose to open a communication screen. She didn't care that the woman pulling her down the hall was probably going to eavesdrop on her. It wasn't as if Claire was understandable to an unprepared ear anyway. They reached the nearest elevator as she finished tapping out her number. Even raising her arm high enough to complete the tasking was trying. She groaned as they came to a stop. Today was going to be great…

Claire answered almost immediately. It caught her off guard and her mouth went dry. She realized she had no idea what to say. Hey, so I went through with the surgery that you were so against and kind of had a breakdown doing it… so how was your day? Yeah, because that rolled right off the tongue. Luckily, Claire was never one to leave dead air alone.

"Julie! Gosh girl, you look totally horrible! I mean, for reals girl, you're hair is just everywhere. Doesn't the hospital have a hairbrush or something? Seriously?"

Julie couldn't help the smile that came to her face. The idea that her hair was a wreck unnerved her. She loved her hair. Her hands automatically reached to grab it and put it into place. She winced, it truly was everywhere.

"So," she continued, and Julie found herself wondering where all that breath came from, "What happened? Oh my gosh, you did it! Julie! Are you getting out? What the hell did they do to you!?"

Julie's eyes cast down and her stomach dropped uncomfortably as she spoke, "I… I don't know. Can you pick me up?"

"Alright, just wait girl, I'll be there super soon! Okay?"

"Okay."

The window was closed just as the nurse dragged her into the elevator. Julie braced herself on one of the rails. The nurse eagerly let go of her and kept her space, hands gingerly on her hips. Julie looked at her intently, curiosity absorbing her senses.

Briefly, she couldn't hold her tongue, "What's your name?"

"What's it to you," the nurse snapped, an eyebrow cocked. Julie shrugged, or tried to shrug. It was too painful to move her shoulders that far.

"I'm getting I little tired of referring to you as nurse who hates me in my head," she said. The nurse shifted uncomfortably on the spot, "I'm not stupid you know, and you're not exactly hiding it well. Besides, you know who I am."

"Everyone knows who you are," she replied sourly.

"So then what's the harm? Do you think I'm going to get you fired," she smiled when the nurse subconsciously nodded to herself, "I won't. You know, as long as you keep all this to yourself."

"Of course, Miss Kane," she answered robotically. Julie scoffed. There was something about her surname that felt like a stab in the throat.

"Julie."

"What?"

"It's Julie, alright?"

The nurse almost smiled, but the sinister glaze over her eyes never faded, "Alma."

"That's pretty," Julie said sincerely. Alma stuffed her hands in her pockets, glaring at the floor for a while. Julie knew she probably should have left it at that. Alma already hated her. She only gave up any of that information, despite the fight, because of her status. Julie had a reputation. One that she granted didn't deserve and was often quite untruthful, but it came in handy. She was never the type of person to hold her heritage over another's head, but people often mistook her words to be manipulative. She frowned, maybe they actually were, "When is it?"

Alma shuffled on the spot again, kicking at the floor with the heel of one of her sneakers, "A few hours."

"I guess you don't know what they're going to do," Julie stated, leaning into the railing more when the elevator came to a final halt. A spike of pain flashed over her. It faded relatively fast, but she knew it was no where near over.

"No," she spat.

Julie bit her cheek before continuing slowly, "Do you… know what they did to me?"

Alma looked at her from the corner of her eyes, "No."

She took Julie by the arm and escorted her off the elevator. Julie winced as she walked, crying out softly with each step and stumble. Suddenly, Alma pushed her down onto a bench outside the main pharmacy. She told her to stay put while she went and filled her prescription. Her hands gripped at the bench beneath her, but couldn't find the breath to thank her as she sped off into the pharmacy.

Her communication screen opened in front of her face. Julie quickly opened the screen to Claire's worried smile. She couldn't help but grin back.

"I'm here," she said, "Where are you?"

"In front of the pharmacy," she replied quickly. Claire clapped her hands together in understanding.

"I'm on my way. Don't move!"

Julie winced as another flood of pain rampaged through her shoulders, "That won't be a problem."

Claire didn't waste anytime, and Julie chuckled as her friend barrelled around the corner mere moments after closing the red screen. She almost jumped at the seat beside her on the bench and threw her arms around her. Julie whimpered, biting her tongue while the sharp pain shot through her again to keep from crying out. She hoped Claire wouldn't hear her, but she did. Claire immediately pulled back and her hand came to her mouth as she gasped. Julie tried to shrug again, but grunted as she remembered that her shoulders couldn't move that far.

"Julie," she whispered like it was forbidden to speak, "What did they do?"

"I told you. I don't know," Julie's head fell back into the wall and she sighed, "Something though. The doctor said everything was fine."

"Did he tell you anything else? Anything at all?"

She pursed her lips as she thought, "He said not to use the enhancement until I'm healed and that's it."

"Okay," Claire twirled her hair absentmindedly as she spoke but just as she opened her mouth to continue, Alma trudged out from the pharmacy. She looked Claire over, scoffed under her breath and threw a white paper bag at her. Claire caught it with a squeal of surprise. Alma snorted.

Without another word she turned down the hall and was gone. Julie caught herself wishing her luck. She almost felt sorry for her, but the thought was quickly stopped as she realized she had other things to worry about. Claire was staring at her. Her eyes were glossy and Julie's stomach dropped at the sight of them. She gulped. This wasn't good. She couldn't handle it when she cried herself – and she certainly wasn't equipped enough to deal with anyone else. Claire never cried, as Julie had come to learn after all these years. She sobbed. She bawled. She wept. She couldn't cry, timidly and soft. It just wasn't in her – the emotional self control.

"No, no," Julie hushed, "Claire, don't you dare. You'll make a scene!"

"What do we do now," she sniffled. Julie's chest swelled as she watched her best friend tried her best to combatant the croaks rising up her throat and failed miserably.

"I think we should get out of here," she insisted. Claire nodded slowly and took her hand, taking her time to lace their fingers together protectively, and led her through the halls. Her hand was shaking in hers. Why was she so scared? Her eyes widened in shock. Was it her face? Did they ruin her face? She realized she hadn't looked in a mirror yet and horrible images automatically filled her mind. They gave her robotic eyes. They switched her mouth with an upgraded bear trap. They turned her nose into a laser.

Oh God, she was starting to sound like Texas.

Still, her nervous imagination forced her free hand to her face. No robot eyes, bear traps, or lasers. She sighed with relief and it fell back to her side.

Claire stayed abnormally silent the rest of the way. Julie's eyes narrowed at the back of her head. Claire only stayed this quiet when she was hiding something. Julie's mouth twisted to the side, and gripped her hand harder. Claire faltered and turned back to face her for a moment. Her eyes were tearing up. She bit down on her lip briefly before going back to gently leading her to the pod station.

"What is it," she prodded. Claire's grip on her hand wavered for a moment at her words, "Claire…"

Her pod was coming into sight. The blinds were down. Julie sucked in a sharp breath. She knew exactly why they were closed, but she couldn't bring herself to admit it. Claire noted her expression and spoke softly, "Something happened while you were… you know."

"What," she snapped, "I was only under for a few hours – what could have possibly happened?"

Claire let go of her hand outside her pod. She looked up and down the bay before tapping the pass code out on the keypad. Julie stood, pained, but defiant at the lack of answers she was receiving. She didn't like secrets. The irony hit her like a brick to the gut, but she shifted her weight and forced the feeling away. The door opened and Claire gestured inside, annoyance surfacing across her features, "He did."

Julie's gaze first caught hold of Mutt's trunk and rear bumper. Anger flared within her belly, quickly spreading like a fire to her fingertips. Her blood boiled and she could feel it pumping through her veins. The pulse in her wrists thundered behind the thin skin, a violent tingling left in its wake. Her upper lip curled into a snarl as she slipped between Mutt and the wall of Claire's pod. She shook her head in disbelief as she struggled to move. She really should have seen this coming. Mike never gave up – even when continuing was sheer stupidity. He quite easily could have construed doing what she asked as giving up. She had no doubt of it. He was so bull headed, and cocky, and his inflated sense of justice was admirable but ridiculously unsafe, and, she huffed, blowing her bangs off her forehead for a moment, he must have had a secret death wish… it was the only explanation for his disregard for the fragility of the human body, and God knows he was – _bleeding_.

She shoved herself through the final stretch where she had been pinned. The pain in her back had started ripping through her again. It forced her to trudge the final steps, but she barely noticed it. He blinded her. Mike was slouched over on Claire's couch. He watched her push herself, eyes trailing her body for signs of trauma. She had many. He propelled himself of the couch. His body was stiff and ached with pulled muscles and bruises, but it was nothing he hadn't dealt with before, and such, he managed easily. She grabbed his forearms, cussing at her brain when she briefly became distracted by the strength in his arms beneath his jacket, and forced him back onto the couch.

She heard him winced under his breath, quietly, but it was there. She took his face in her palms. A large purpling bruise had nested over his right cheekbone causing the flesh to swell. His lip was split, and blood had dabbled down from it in a trail. She noted the crust of dried blood just under his left nostril; he had broken his nose. She wiped the blood off his mouth with the hem of her shirt. The red splotch shone like a beacon in the dark against the white Kane Co. fabric but she really couldn't care less. She had more shirts.

"Geez, Mike," she muttered, dragging her thumb across his jaw to calm herself, "You're so stupid sometimes, you know that?"

His gaze softened, "Yeah."

"So stupid," she repeated spitefully. He snorted and she smiled pitifully as his face twitched with pain. She sighed as she studied his injuries intently. It would be easy enough to ice his cheek and Jacob could even set his nose. His mouth was another matter. He'd need stitches, which meant a doctor, which meant finding a qualified medic in Motorcity. That would take some digging. She reached up and grazed the underside of the bruise.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled it off him. She scowled at him, be he remained firm. He stood from the couch again. His joints cracked uncomfortably as he moved. He let her hand go and it dropped to her side. Her neck craned to look him in the face, and it strained her. The sharp ache in her shoulders was burning and it was slowly turning her legs to jelly. Staying up on her feet was becoming tasking, but she refused to back down.

"You're okay," he asked. His hands were stuffed into his jacket and he was crowned over. Her lips tightened against each other briefly. He looked distant, but his voice was sincere.

"I'm alive," she chuckled. He shot her a look, "Nothing went wrong."

"What did they do?"

Her eyes fell from his face to her shoes. It was amazing just how sick of this question she already was, "I don't know."

His brows knitted together, but he stayed collected just as he was best at, "Where does it hurt?"

Her eyes widened momentarily. She hadn't even thought of that. She had been so caught up in everything else that it hadn't logically crossed her mind. Her voice wavered as the pain caught up with her, "My back."

"Okay," he told her calmly. He sounded like he was hushing her, but she wasn't crying. She refused to, "C'mon, c'mon…"

He helped her out of her vest, leaving it to pool on the floor. She cried out, biting on her mouth to keep from screaming any louder. He pinched the hem of her shirt and shimmed it over her head. A strangled sob left her as she raised her arms above her head. It felt like her insides were bleeding. Her spine felt so heavy, like it was being compressed but never moving, and it was dragging her shoulder blades with it.

Claire yelped from behind them, "Really? You guys couldn't even wait until you were back in Motorcity? For real?"

Claire suddenly gasped as Mike gently tugged Julie's shirt off. Julie froze before him, and her eyes met him with fright. He kept his expression collected, but his lip was twitching. She knew better than to read into things but it scared her to see. He turned her until she was facing Claire. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and picked at it nervously. His hands remained steady on her shoulders. She waited, impatiently, for a reaction – a grunt, a worried vibration from his hands.

"Mike," she croaked, "Mike? What is it?"

"I have no idea."


End file.
